


Ebb/Flow

by Munchkin47



Series: Ebb/Flow [1]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-07-29 12:06:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 41,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16263869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munchkin47/pseuds/Munchkin47
Summary: Professor Charles Xavier is an exhausted single father who tries his best to juggle work and life. The last thing he expected to do is get involved with a complicated man whose success in business has everything to do with the city's criminal underbelly. He finds himself inexplicably drawn to this dangerous man, whose very existence throws his into chaos. But you don't get to pick who you fall in love with, do you?





	1. Chapter 1

The first encounter they shared left him uneasy, like the vague feeling of indigestion in the pit of his stomach after a particularly greasy meal. Even though there was no blatantly obvious reason for it, he felt his nerves tingling as his cheeks warmed from his incoherent thoughts, his brain on an endless loop, replaying scene after scene at the restaurant.

Funnily enough, the encounter wasn’t even a direct one, but instead made up of various brief interactions consisting of discreet nods, subtle gazes and information from various intermediaries. But the nature of their encounter had seemed so magnetic, so intimate that he could feel nothing but discomfort – uneasiness from wondering if he was letting his imagination run away with him, fear that he might not.

Charles had expected an uneventful early dinner at Il Mare tonight with David. It was meant to be a quick dinner on dishes that he didn’t have to prepare or wash, and David had always liked the gnocchi in pesto sauce. He had a long day at the university, his head throbbing gently with the stifling emotions swimming in nerves and fear from his students who were taking their mid-terms. That, and the pile of mid-term papers meant that he spent a very uncomfortable afternoon torn between grading and resting his achy eyes.

When he had arrived at day care to pick up David, he could see and hear his son bawling hysterically about his mini Lightning McQueen race car being placed in the wrong pocket. To be clear, David had wanted the car in the left pocket of his Paw Patrol bag, and when he saw it in the right pocket, he went into a fiery meltdown. Charles didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but as he bore a weepy David out of the day care after profuse apologies to his carers, he decided that tonight was not a night for cooking.

David settled down with his double cushions in his chair, his little face bobbing just a little above the tablecloth. The Rossi matriarch had bussed his red cheeks and had bribed him with a booklet of cars colouring sheets and a set of wax crayons. David immediately began to scrawl over the pages, giving Charles enough of a breather to order and just to watch his son in blissful peace.

He had only noticed the large group of people sitting by the back wall when Mama Rossi brought him his vongole fettucine and David’s gnocchi. He mentally counted ten sitting around a rectangular table, dressed in business wear, with one man sitting at the head, his back to the wall. For such a large group they weren’t particularly loud, and as Charles discreetly observed further, they seemed to be in deep discussion. Not many business people would have dinner at 5pm, he mused. But it was none of his business.

But he lifted his head when he heard a surprised voice call out his name. “Professor Xavier?” The blond young man had pushed back his chair in apparent excitement as his long legs ate up the short distance. Charles started, and answered Alex’s smile with one of his own. “Hello, Alex. How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you,” Alex said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Scotty would be so surprised.”

“That his professor has a life outside of the university?” Charles grinned. “You’re here with your colleagues for an early dinner?”

Alex nodded, with some discomfort. “The boss is taking us out for dinner. We uh, have a major project to finish tonight, hence the early dinner. Anyways,” he said, changing the subject in typical Alex fashion, with very little subtlety. “What brings you down here?”

“I do need to eat, you know.”

“Yeah? I thought you subsisted on carrot sticks and baby yoghurt,” Alex joked.

Charles smiled again, chastened. “I know, I should stock the fridge a little better.” Alex looked down at David, who was busy picking out each gnocchi with his fingers and thumb, and gave him a quick affectionate pat on the head. “I’m just ribbing you, prof. If you leave us some grocery money and a list next time Scotty and Jean babysit, they’ll do the groceries for you.”

“I think Scott is a little too busy for the next week or so – mid-terms, as you know.”

“Yeah, I do. He’s been all stressed and sh--,um, just very stressed out. After all, he has a very stern, strict professor.”

“Stern but fair,” Charles said.

“Prof, Scotty’s told me that the students in your class pay for their As in blood, sweat and tears. I’ll let you get back to your dinner, though. It was really nice seeing you here. Hey bub, use your spoon,” Alex said. David spared him a withering glance before ignoring him.

“It was very lovely to see you, Alex,” Charles said, before reaching in to pat Alex’s shoulder affectionately. The Summers boys were nice kids, he thought. Alex worked hard to help put his brother through college, and Scott’s girlfriend Jean was one of the participants of the university’s mutant mentoring program. Charles himself was one of the three advisors for the program, as part of his service load. Jean occasionally babysat David, while Scott and Alex liked to tag along. At first he had been concerned at their regular presence, but just briefly touching upon their minds, he found that Scott was there more for his cable TV, while Alex genuinely enjoyed playing with little David. Meanwhile, Jean, the responsible one, got to split her attention between half-watching the three boys and doing her assignments.

He watched as Alex made his way back to the group, politely taking his seat again halfway down the table. With an electric jolt he realised the man sitting at the head of the table, the figure half in shadows, was watching him. Even without skimming the surface of his thoughts, Charles could sense the interest and curiosity. It was the sheer intensity of the man’s thoughts that shook him a little.

He forced himself to go back to his food. It would be a shame to leave his fettucine to congeal in its rich wine sauce. He turned his attention back to David, who by now, had his fingers and palms of both hands covered in the green pesto sauce.

He chanced a look at the man again. The man had turned back to the group, and in the half shadows, Charles could only briefly make out what he looked like. He seemed to be listening intently as one of his subordinates talked rapidly. But the man lingered at the edge of Charles’ awareness, his intensity almost disturbing.

Charles did not know why he did what he did next, but it was undeniable that his curiosity got the better of him. Out of habit rather than necessity, he slid two fingers to his temple, as if trying to sooth away his headache. He had intended to discreetly skim the surface of the man’s mind, trying to find an explanation to his strange sense of uneasiness. His telepathy had served him well in the past, even if he had a strict policy of preserving every person’s privacy against his mind. But it wasn’t wrong, or unethical for him to briefly press his mind quietly against another’s, just to get a sense of them. Most people he had met had minds like smooth flowing rivers. The truly unpleasant felt like a river of mud or sludge, too thick, too filthy to even think about wading through. It was never invasive, almost just like a discreet little tap on someone’s skin to test for their temperature.

His mind slammed up against mental shields, and he knew immediately he had made a mistake. Mental shields could mean only the man had been trained to repel telepathic invasions, and the unexpected jolt alerted the man to Charles’ actions. He looked up sharply, his ferocious gaze pinning Charles down with an eerie accuracy. As if knowing, without the shadow of a doubt, that it was Charles who was testing the waters of his mind.

Charles struggled to catch his breath, before he tore his gaze away and back to his food. He could feel that gaze still on him, like an invisible bruise that he couldn’t get away from.

When he calmed his rapidly beating heart, he lifted an arm to call for the check. He busied himself for the next few moments cleaning David’s oily green hands with the wipes in his bag. When the waiter walked over, Charles pulled out his wallet. Anthony only bent closer. “Your check has been paid for, Professor Xavier.”

“What?” Charles asked, confused. His wallet was already half-open and his fingers halted on his credit card.

“Mr Lehnsherr sends his regards,” Anthony said, as he tilted towards Alex’s table. “Have a great evening.”

Mr Lehnsherr. Charles lifted his gaze to catch the man’s eyes. For a moment, minutes, an eternity – they only stared at each other. Charles was confused. Disoriented. Terrified. He tipped his head briefly. The man – Lehnsherr – reciprocated, before turning back to his subordinates.

Charles scrambled to toss his wallet, wipes, and David’s toys into his bag, and reached over to unbuckle his son. He wanted to leave the restaurant now. The encounter with that strange man had rattled him entirely.

It was only when he had reached the lovely little brownstone that he shared with his son that it hit him all at once – he felt completely terrified and turned-on, two emotions that warred with each other. What was it about that mysterious man that inspired such feelings in him?

He looked down, a little dazedly, as David clung to his pants leg, grouchy and tired.

“Come on, darling. Let us get you changed and into bed,” he said gently.

“I’m not tired,” David said tearfully.

Charles sighed, dropping his briefcase and David’s overstuffed bag full of his spare clothes, teddy, soft toys and cars onto the floor tiles. He felt physically drained, and the headache that had accompanied him the entire day made no plans to go away. It was days like these that the challenge of being a single father utterly, completely defeated him. And not for the first time, he wished that he had Raven close by, on hand to run interception. She was a wonderful aunt to David, and possibly the only person who could keep up with David’s boundless energy.

But his kid was now whiny and very close to a temper tantrum, so Charles sighed again, and decided that David didn’t need a change of clothes, he could go to sleep as he was. Screw the teeth brushing as well.

He carried his struggling, screaming bundle of joy into the bedroom and deposited him onto his toddler bed. He absently patted David’s back. To his immense relief, David fell asleep almost immediately. The poor boy must have been so tired.

Charles crept into his bedroom, carrying with him a bone-deep tiredness. As glad as he was that David had fallen asleep so quickly, the house had suddenly settled into that strange, solitary quiet that he had come to dread. He completed his toileting routine hastily, and as he slid in beneath the sheets, his mind cast out a net absently, catching David’s sleeping mind and keeping it close.

He looked over to the pillow next to his. The loneliness ached in him, like a bad, rotting tooth that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he ignored it.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning he was rudely jerked awake by his horrible phone alarm. He snoozed it crankily, still half-asleep, before realizing that sleep was slowly deserting his body the longer he lay there. He pried open one eyelid to blink at his phone. It was 6.35am. 

Charles forced himself to slide off the bed and pad across the floor to the shower, knowing he only really had an hour or so before David would awaken and demand breakfast. He carried out his morning routine with utmost haste – pretty much half-assing everything as he did every morning. He sighed as he walked past the overloaded laundry basket, repacked David’s bag with more spare clothes and dug out a clean outfit. He pulled out the milk from the fridge and sure enough, there was only enough for one bowl, so he boiled some hot water and poured it on his Honey Nut Cheerios. 

To distract him from the sodden, terrible mess, he turned on the television and briefly scanned the headlines. How could they still be debating the bill about Mutant Protection Rights? Charles shook his head. There was an arson case somewhere downtown, and they had found four bodies in the abandoned factory. Charles shook his head again. What was this world coming to? 

He was just about send off a quick text to Raven, and was about to compose his thoughts when David shouted and put to bed all hopes of having a quick conversation with his sister. Charles hastily swallowed the rest of the goop in his bowl. He gave David a quick shower, brushed his teeth and gave him a bowl of Cheerios with the last of the milk. He really must remember to buy some more after work. And maybe some actual food so he could feed himself and his son. 

Charles sighed inwardly. He was exhausted before the day had even begun. 

Then he hurried at David to put on his socks, shoes, bag. He locked up the house, before realising that he had forgotten his briefcase. He unlocked the doors again, ran to get his bag, then relocked the doors and ran. Dropped David off at day care. David was being in a generally cooperative mood that morning, a rarity. Charles gave him kisses and hugs, and then ran off to the university. 

He had a busy morning, having two classes back-to-back. Then he had two consults with students who needed him to look over their assignments. One was a freaked-out overachiever who was afraid she was going to fail this assignment. She wasn’t even close to it, but Charles took the time to assure her anyway.

By the time he saw the student off and sat back down in his cramped little office, it was slightly past lunch time. He hadn’t managed to pack anything of course, thanks to the empty larder at home. His mind drifted across the mental tasks he had to do for the rest of the day. He felt like he was constantly on the back foot, unable to get ahead of this funny game of life. David was a source of pain as well as pleasure. But he was Charles’ biggest treasure, and he would not change anything. 

That reminded him. He had to contact Jean. He needed her to babysit David since he had the department fundraiser night that weekend. He honestly hated being apart from his son, but work was work. The university paid him a good salary, in exchange for fairly flexible hours. At least David would enjoy the company of Jean and the two other quasi-babysitters. Scott and Alex were always good for a laugh or two. 

The thought of the Summers boys suddenly brought to the forefront of his mind the encounter that had transpired last night. Strange how he hadn’t given it any thought, but even stranger was the nature of the encounter. He hadn’t felt this attracted to anyone in a long while, he admitted to himself.  
His palms began sweating a bit. He had felt dangerously drawn into a situation he would usually never put himself in. The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle. His heart began to palpitate a little quicker at the thought of ...

Wait. 

What was happening? 

He looked up to see the subject of his errant thoughts standing in the doorway. He could not stop that sizzle of electric surprise that coursed through his body. It was almost as if his thoughts had conjured up the man, in the flesh, right in front of him.

In the light of day, Lehnsherr was even more arresting than he had been last night, in the shadows. The man was all sharp angles and planes, his chiseled face with those deep eyes boring straight into Charles’ being. His gaze was frank and intense, his body language relaxed yet commanding. He simply leaned against the doorway, as if content to wait, and watch. Charles was reminded of a preying, patient eagle who watched his next meal skitter about frantically, knowing that there was no escape.

He had always prided himself on being virtually impossible to sneak up on. He was after all, a fairly accomplished telepath. He could sense before his eyes could see. And perhaps that was why when a man with a shielded mind approached him, his other senses had failed him. 

‘Mr Lehnsherr,’ Charles said, surprised that his voice came out well-modulated, without a hint of surprise or panic. ‘Thank you for dinner last night.’ 

Lehnsherr smiled. Like a shark. ‘It was my pleasure,’ he said, with an almost untraceable hint of a German accent. ‘Did you enjoy it?’ 

Charles considered the veiled question. ‘The dinner? Yes.’ He stood up, and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. ‘Please, have a seat. Is there anything … I can help you with?’ 

Lehnsherr leisurely abandoned his predatory perch at the doorway and sauntered confidently inside the poky little office. He took a seat, and folded his hands together, arms resting easily on the chair. Charles was now close enough to fully appreciate the view. 

The man had his hair slicked back, neatly groomed, not a single tendril out of place. His trim, toned physique encased in a bespoke pinstripe suit in the deepest hues of midnight blue, matching waistcoat and a magenta tie. All Charles could see was one very good-looking man. But why was he here?

‘I have heard a great deal about you, Professor Xavier. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. Unfortunately, you left yesterday evening so abruptly that I had little chance to introduce myself. My name is Erik Lehnsherr.’ 

He leaned forward and held out a large, well-manicured hand. 

Charles was actually a little hesitant to shake his hand. And he had reason to, for as soon as he touched his fingers to the man’s palm in an effort to shake his hand in a convivial manner, Lehnsherr caged him in a strong, firm grip, never crushing his hand, but not letting go either. The heat and the intensity threw Charles off balance, allowing Lehnsherr to yank him forward. 

‘Mr Lehnsherr,’ Charles gasped, completely surprised. 

‘Call me Erik,’ he said.

‘Erik,’ Charles managed to extricate his hand from Lehnsherr’s grip. ‘I don’t understand --’

‘I apologise for my forwardness, Professor Xavier,’ Lehnsherr said, looking not the least bit apologetic. ‘If there’s anything I hate in this world, it’s wasting time.’ He smiled. ‘So allow me to be frank with you. I find you extremely attractive, and I intend to pursue a relationship with you.’ 

Charles opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Then opened it again, slowly. ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said flatly. 

‘Not at all,’ Lehnsherr said. 

Silence hung in the air. Lehnsherr seemed content to wait until Charles was able to pull his thoughts together. Normally, by now, Charles would have used his powers to ascertain for himself if this man spoke the truth. But yesterday evening had taught him that it would be a virtual impossibility, not to mention very poor manners. 

Yes, he was flattered, of course. He found the man to be very attractive. And there was no denying that there was a strange, physical primal attraction between the both of them. But he had never, ever been propositioned this way. The man obviously did not have patience, or tact. And he was clearly a man who didn’t take no for an answer. 

‘Erik,’ Charles began. ‘I have to admit that I am fairly … perplexed by your … advances. We barely know each other.’ 

‘Like I said, professor. I find time to be very precious. I don’t like dancing around the bush. I prefer to get straight to the heart of the matter.’ 

‘I don’t know anything about you,’ Charles said.

‘Oh, professor. I didn’t expect you to want to play this game. But very well, I shall indulge. You already know my name. I am 38 years old, and I own a business. I am a widower, with two children. A single father, like you. I am a mutant, as well. I manipulate magnetic fields. I have followed your career, and have read your published papers on genetics and mutant rights. I think your work in genetics is brilliant, but your opinions on mutant rights ill-formed. You are a powerful telepath. If you had chosen to use this against me, you would know that I find your intellect to be stunning, and I did not expect you to be this attractive.’ 

‘Perhaps I should check for myself,’ Charles said, unable to keep the snarky suspicion out of his tone. ‘I was raised to have manners, so I don’t generally enjoy raiding through a mind that’s actively shielded.’ 

‘Oh, professor,’ Lehnsherr chuckled. ‘You don’t need to go digging around my mind. I’m happy to tell you my thoughts as of the last ten minutes. I’ve been fantasizing about pushing you up against the wall of this office and fucking you senseless.’ 

Suddenly, it felt like the air in the room had been all sucked out. 

Deep down, just behind his belly, was the pull of desire and attraction. 

But something about this man screamed danger. Charles did not need to use his telepathy to understand this. 

‘I see that you are at a loss, professor. Perhaps it is just as well that you require some time to consider this idea of a … relationship with me. My colleagues have told me that I can be quite forceful at times, and rather unpleasantly too. I do hope you and I will reach a satisfying agreement at some juncture, of course. But I will leave you for now.’ Lehnsherr stood. Charles jumped to his feet. ‘Perhaps I can leave you with something to think about,’ he said. 

‘What’s that?’ Charles asked dumbly. 

Lehnsherr’s long legs made short work of the meager distance between them as he maneuvered around the large desk. He didn’t have to pin Charles to the wall. His sheer overwhelming presence was enough for Charles to unwittingly, unthinkingly back up until his back slapped against the unmoving surface, and Lehnsherr used one hand, tilted his chin up with the firm lift of his finger and thumb, and closed the distance between them until there was nothing but the flash of heat, the quick snake of his tongue into Charles’ mouth, and the gulp of air that Charles took as they parted. 

Holy shit. Charles was turned on as all hell. The man was hot and he kissed like the devil. 

‘Think about it. Goodbye for now, Charles,’ Lehnsherr straightened his jacket, and walked out of his office. 

It was a good ten minutes before the blood finally rushed back to his brain, and he could begin to formulate thoughts. His second encounter with the man seemed even more surreal than the first. He knew without a doubt, then and there, that it was only a matter of time before he got involved with Erik Lehnsherr. 

And once he had accepted that fact, his thoughts began clearing. He replayed the encounter again in his mind, this time in slow motion. He especially enjoyed the frisson of excitement when Lehnsherr had said ‘Charles’, in that deep sexy masculine voice. But wait. 

Had Erik Lehnsherr called his views on mutant rights ‘ill-formed’? 

Goddamn that man.


	3. Chapter 3

He was throwing together a quick sandwich of peanut butter and jelly for David’s lunch when the bell rang. 

‘It’s open!’ he called out, cutting off the crusts before briefly rinsing off the least wrinkly apple he could find from the fruit bowl. He sliced the pieces and tossed them in a bowl for David. Apples and a PB & J. That was at least four different food groups, right? It probably just passed for a meal with sufficient nutrition for a growing child. 

God, he was terrible at this parenting thing. 

Jean Grey and her sullen boyfriend came down the hallway. David heard them, dramatically dropped everything he was holding, and let out a large war whoop from his tiny body, and ran at them. 

Thank goodness. Reinforcements. 

Jean was an intelligent girl, kind, caring and sweet. She was a delight to work with, but she was also wonderful with David. Charles knew a lot of it had to do with her telepathy powers, since it meant she could always anticipate what David needed or wanted. He loved it when she would levitate his toys, send them spinning around in the room, like some kind of magical spinning mobile. And that hulking Neanderthal next to her may have poor social skills but was shockingly helpful around the house. 

Scott thumped two cloth bags onto the kitchen counter. Charles wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and patted Scott on the shoulder. ‘What’s this?’ 

‘Groceries,’ Jean said. ‘Stuff you need for your fridge. You probably haven’t done the weekly shop yet, have you?’ 

Charles reddened, smiling sheepishly. He pulled out bread, milk, butter, fruit and vegetables. Jean was a god-send. 

‘If you leave some money in the kitchen drawer, we’ll do the weekly shopping for you, professor.’ Jean scooted up to the bar stool, and began pulling out her laptop and books from her bag. 

‘Are you sure?’ Charles said. ‘Because I’m not going to say no.’

Jean nodded. ‘We don’t mind. It’s fun doing the groceries with Scott. Besides, we give ourselves a 20% tip off your bill,’ she said cheekily. Scott shrugged. 

He would pay 100% if it would mean that there was one less task to complete each week. Between his full-time job, caring for David, and the annoying extra-curriculars that came with his position, he was swamped. No wonder he had no time for a love life. 

David screamed from across the room. ‘Hungry!’ 

Scott slid the sandwich onto the table and tapped the booster seat, calling David over. Charles continued to unload the groceries and pack it away. 

‘I saw Alex the other night,’ Charles called out to Scott. 

‘Yeah?’ Scott nodded. Then shrugged. He really was not a talker. 

‘Yes,’ Charles said casually. ‘I was at Il Mare. And Alex was with his … colleagues?’ 

‘I guess,’ Scott said. It was like pulling teeth. 

‘Anyways, where does he work?’ 

Thank goodness Jean came to the rescue of her reticent boyfriend. Besides, she knew everything. He should have asked her first. 

‘Oh. He works for Eisenhardt Corp. I think he’s a junior associate there, working for the Acquisitions Department.’ 

‘Glorified flunky,’ Scott muttered. 

‘What does he do then, exactly?’ 

‘I’m not entirely sure. I know Eisenhardt does all sorts of things, stuff like corporate mergers and acquisitions, to having an import-export department.’ 

‘Exporting what exactly?’ Charles asked. 

Jean shrugged. ‘I don’t really know. I’ve only heard Alex talking, well, crowing really, that he works directly for the boss. He practically worships at his feet. Erik Lehnsherr. Heard of him? Forbes’ 40 under 40 a couple years ago. He’s a wunderkind of some kind, although no one’s really sure what he does. Did you meet him?’ 

Charles could feel his ears warming over. ‘Kind of,’ he evaded. ‘He seemed … nice.’ Lame, Charles, he chided himself. Of all things, Lehnsherr was not ‘nice’. But Jean did not question it. ‘Anyways, sorry for calling you guys out on a weekend. I’m sure you would rather be anywhere else than here. I just couldn’t get out of this fundraiser.’ 

‘That’s all right,’ Jean said. ‘I have a social psychology assignment due in a couple weeks anyway. Once David goes to bed I’ll have time to work on it, since Scott promised to be on standby, get David back in bed if he wakes up.’

‘I’ll put him to bed too, if that’ll give you more time,’ Scott grunted. 

The two of them were very sweet, and clearly in love, Charles thought fondly. He never really had that connection with anybody. David was the result of a careless one night stand with a woman who really wasn’t wanting to parent. Charles could respect her for knowing what she wanted so clearly – or didn’t want. Charles had agonised over her decision to give the child up for adoption. But in the end, he did what was right to him. He had stepped in, and made the best decision of his life. 

And even though sometimes he felt like an unfit parent, David gave him something indescribable and insane – the love of a child, the unquestioning reliance on his parent to keep him safe and loved. Charles had needed that. He gave meaning to his life. 

‘Shall I cook up something for dinner, put it in the fridge?’ Charles offered. ‘That way you don’t have to cook.’

Scott and Jean glanced at each other. Then they broke out laughing. ‘It’s OK, professor. We can whip up something easy. You don’t have to,’ Jean said. 

Scott pushed the destroyed sandwich away from David, who was now attempting to paint the table with the sticky remnants of peanut butter. ‘What do you want for dinner, kid?’ 

David licked his slice of apple. ‘Hot dog,’ he said clearly. 

‘I’ll make you mac and cheese,’ Scott said. ‘With lots of cheese.’

David agreed amicably. Charles knew he was in safe hands. He went off to have a hard-earned, well-deserved shower. While the steam fogged over the bathroom, he quickly righted his bedroom, tossing David’s scattered toys into the drawers where they belonged. He had a quick shave, and was about to pull on his tux when he heard the doorbell ring again. 

Minutes later, he heard the animated, high-pitched feminine voice outside, cooing at David. He buttoned up his shirt and tucked it into his pants, before the door to his bedroom burst open and Moira flounced through, and took a good long hard look at him. 

‘Oh, good,’ she said. ‘I was hoping that you were dressed already. I don’t want to be late.’ 

‘Why hello,’ Charles said. ‘I’m good, how are you?’ 

She waved dismissively and tossed her satin purse on the bed. ‘I’m really nervous.’ 

‘What about?’ 

‘I really need tonight to go well. We need to hit our fundraising targets tonight. I’m just … I just want tonight to be a success,’ she said, chewing gently on one manicured nail. 

‘You said “tonight” thrice,’ he said. ‘And it will. Relax.’ It was clearly the wrong thing to say. 

‘Relax!’ she shouted. ‘Are you stupid? I’m not going to relax. We have to hit our targets, we don’t have a choice. They cut our budget, Charles! And now we have to make up for it by begging around for scraps. We’re supposed to be boring dreary academics, Charles! Not trained show ponies!’ 

Charles rolled his eyes. ‘You really have got to calm down, Moira. Take some Valium.’ 

‘I’ve been so strung up since I’ve taken this job on, Charles.’ Moira toyed with a perfectly curled tendril. ‘I’m thinking of relinquishing the position after this fundraiser.’

‘Oh, Moira. Then who will breathe down my throat for next two papers, which I totally remember are due next month? Come on Moira, you’re doing a great job as Department Chair. You’re shades better than McGinley anyway.’ 

‘A trained monkey’s better than McGinley,’ she retorted. ‘Come on, we don’t want to be late.’ 

‘We’re not going to be late!’ Charles said. ‘It’s half past four now. The fundraiser’s not until seven!’ 

Moira glanced over at him, visibly annoyed. ‘We’re the organizers, Charles. We’ll have to make sure we’re running a tight ship here. We’re going in early to double-check everything.’ 

‘You mean you are,’ Charles muttered. ‘Listen, you’re sure you don’t want me to help you ease off that anxiety a little so you aren’t a ball of nerves tonight?’ He wiggled his fingers next to his head. 

She picked up her purse and slapped his head with it. ‘Come on, you can laugh at me on the way there. Maybe you can use your psychic powers to persuade our wealthy VIPs to part with their money tonight. God knows they have more than enough,’ she said. 

‘Yeah?’ Charles grinned. ‘I’ll get a couple of them to set us up for life. We’ll never have to depend on funding ever again.’ 

‘If you’re going to do that, then get them to deposit it into my personal bank account. I just want to quit this job. Between the students and the paperwork and the annoying subordinates, I’m just about done.’ 

Suddenly a thought occurred to Charles. ‘Hey, speaking of VIPs. We don’t have Lehnsherr of Eisenhardt Corp on our VIP list tonight, do we?’

‘As a matter of fact, we do,’ Moira said, turning to him. Her curiosity suddenly turned to excitement. ‘Hang on, do you know him? Maybe you can sweet-talk him into donating a big check for the department.’ 

‘No.’ Inwardly, he groaned. 

‘Oh come on, you totally do!’ she wheedled. ‘Come on! Will you at least try?’ 

‘I don’t know him that well,’ he began. 

‘I’m not asking you to sleep with him,’ Moira said.

‘Ha-ha,’ Charles said. ‘You’re hilarious.’ Charles had to work doubly hard to keep his expression from revealing anything. Moira may have accidentally stumbled on it, but there really was no denying that yes, at some point in the near future, he would sleep with Erik Lehnsherr. He would be stupid not to. The man was seriously hot. But Charles wasn’t expecting to see him again, not this soon. It had been less than a week since Lehnsherr had walked into his office and slathered his pheromones all over the damn place. 

And yet there was a part of him – a giddy, teenage girl version that seemed to live deep inside of Charles Xavier - that actively yearned to see the man again. The logical, grown up side, of course, had reservations. What did Erik Lehnsherr want from him? A tumble in the sheets? A fling? A drawn-out affair? 

Charles absently kissed David good night, then peeled off some cash and handed it discreetly to Scott so he could get some pizza and ice cream for tonight. It was the least he could do to thank two of them. 

Charles was determined to get some answers out of Lehnsherr tonight, so he could make an informed decision. He certainly wasn’t going to sleep with the man just because Lehnsherr had demanded thus of him. Until he had a better handle on things, he was done with being on the back foot. 

It was going to be an interesting night.


	4. Chapter 4

It was not an interesting night. 

It was a completely horrible evening. 

Sure, Charles would be the first to admit that some of it might have been his fault. He had spent the first half of the evening dodging any sort of opportunity to interact with the guests. He had thrown himself into doing everything else. He had made sure that the waitstaff were completely prepared, that the place cards were all in the right spots, even though it wasn’t his job. 

He just needed time to think. He wanted to approach Lehnsherr carefully. From the best possible angle. A position of strength. And yes, there was a little bit of trepidation that came with it. All his well-rehearsed thoughts completely flew out of his head when he saw Lehnsherr striding through the double doors of the ballroom, in a tuxedo that seemed to be molded for his frame. 

When the wealthy and the beautiful began arriving, he had skulked around, making very distracted small talk, until he spotted Lehnsherr amidst them. Then he made a beeline for the backstage, where a very annoyed Moira was rehearsing her short introductory speech, where she had managed to throw her very heavy purse at his head – it made contact, again – and he rejoined the room.

But all his hopes of avoiding drawing Lehnsherr’s attention to him for a little longer was dashed, when he discovered for himself that the man was like a blood hound. His gaze lasered in on Charles just as he was trying to sneak past his line of sight by pressing close to the wall as he made his way down to the bar. And even from that far away, Charles could see the amused smirk, that shark-like way he tracked Charles’ movements like he was going to swallow Charles whole. And just for funsies, he felt twin tugs on his cuff links, insistent enough that he knew it could only come from one person. 

It made Charles think that he had accidentally stumbled onto a Planet Earth documentary and Attenborough was now narrating the lion’s stalking of a clueless, hapless gazelle. 

Charles looked up, and shot an unmistakable glare at the man. Lehnsherr only smiled, before lifting his glass to his lips. Then he turned back to the conversation and ignored Charles. 

The cocky bastard was toying with him. 

Charles was annoyed enough to scupper the idea of having yet another encounter with Erik Lehnsherr, but yet was patient enough to carry out his duties admirably, lest Moira find yet another opportunity to concuss him with that brick of hers that she carried around. 

‘Great speech, Moira,’ Charles leaned in as she took her seat next to him. ‘We’re going to knock those VIPs dead and make them open their wallets.’ 

Moira kept her eyes on the Dean of the University, who was now plodding through his lengthy speech in an eye-wateringly dry tone. ‘Have you spoke to Lehnsherr yet?’ 

‘No. Why do I have to speak to him anyway?’ Charles asked, now unable to keep the irritation out of his tone. ‘He’s here. At a fundraiser. I’m sure he knows what to do.’ 

Moira turned her full glare onto him. ‘Are you serious, pal? This man could single-handedly bank roll our departmental research for decades! His fortune makes your inheritance looks like pocket money!’

‘Hey,’ Charles chided. ‘Back off. How much money we’re talking anyway?’ 

‘Enough to buy your childhood home a thousand times over. Who knows? He has multiple sources of income – some not entirely legit. That’s the rumor anyway. Which makes sense, because he’s definitely richer than God.’ 

‘He’s a criminal?’ Charles asked, very quietly now. 

‘Nope. He’s never been convicted for anything. His enterprise seems to be largely above board. But you know what they say about smoke and fire. Maybe he’s got links to the criminal underworld. Probably.’ 

‘Then we shouldn’t be taking his money.’ 

‘Don’t be ridiculous. As far as I am concerned, his money’s as green as they come.’ She slugged back the flute of champagne and then got to her feet, clapping enthusiastically as the Dean finally walked off the stage. ‘Jesus, I thought that would never end. Hey, looky here, Charles. Speaking of the devil. Now, we’re going to walk over there and introduce ourselves. Then I’m going to go after Thompson Yang, over there. Wealthy Chinese industrialist. First wife had a genetic disease.’ Moira set a firm hand behind Charles’ elbow, guiding him over. Charles was sure that her iron grip would leave marks. 

‘Mr. Lehnsherr! Hello! Moira MacTaggert, Department Chair. And this is Professor Charles Xavier. So glad you could join us tonight.’ 

Lehnsherr unfolded his lanky frame and got to his feet. Charles fought not to bristle at the apparent difference in height. His face was a mask of polite amusement. ‘Anything to support your department, Professor MacTaggert. You’re doing wonderful work, especially your research into mutant genetics.’ He shook Moira’s hand. 

It did not go unnoticed that he did not choose to offer his hand to Charles. 

‘Well, it was wonderful meeting you, Mr. Lehnsherr. I hope you will be generous in your support tonight. We certainly could use it to fund our current research projects, which I’m sure Professor Xavier will be thrilled to enlighten you about. So pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Lehnsherr. Have a good evening.’

And then she flounced off to harass Yang, leaving the two men with each other. 

Charles waited stubbornly for Erik to speak first. 

‘I see you’re done with avoiding me,’ he said. 

Charles bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that I really wasn’t avoiding you.’

‘So I guess it was someone else that I saw slinking by the wall an hour ago.’ 

Charles stared at the man. The man had no tact whatsoever. ‘I think we need to talk.’ 

‘I would like to do other things.’ 

‘I think there needs to be a conversation first,’ Charles reiterated stubbornly. 

Erik chuckled softly. ‘I would never guess that you would want to play this game, professor. Very well.’ Erik reached into the inside of his perfectly-cut jacket to pull out a slim leather checkbook. He sat back down, inviting Charles to take the unoccupied seat next to him. He briefly scrawled across the sheet, then signed his name in one smooth flourish, and tore it off. He handed it over to Charles. 

Charles stared at the check in his hand. Moira would be more than pleased that Lehnsherr had covered the missing part of the budget where funding had been cut. ‘Surely you don’t think that you could buy my company with this.’ 

‘No. I wouldn’t insult you that way,’ Erik said seriously. ‘I wanted to wrap up the night and head somewhere private with you, so we could talk.’

‘Oh.’ Charles refused to let the embarrassment get to him. ‘Ah. I see. I guess we can-’

‘Meet me out the front. I have an apartment nearby.’ 

Charles was left, holding the check in his hot little hand. That was extremely unexpected. He felt like a teenage girl, sneaking out from prom. What the hell was it about Erik Lehnsherr that left him wrong-footed, struggling to string words together in a literate way? Maybe it was the nearly four years of self-imposed celibacy that had left him like that. 

And did he really want to voluntarily walk into Erik Lehnsherr’s apartment? 

Charles handed the check to Moira, who excitedly thumped him on the back. ‘Moira, I need to get going. I promised that I would put David to bed.’

‘Aw! I wanted to celebrate with you once this was finished! Oh well, another time then. Give him kisses for me.’ 

‘I’ll call a rain check on that celebration. See you on Monday.’

As Charles walked across the gala, still in full swing, he wondered what he could really say, or how much could he count on Erik Lehnsherr to come to the table. The last time he had been in a relationship was … an incredibly long time ago. He wouldn’t lie to himself, he knew that that actually having sex with another person right now would be a welcome development in his life. In fact, he was downright looking forward to it. 

But Lehnsherr was shady. That much he knew. 

He joined the man at the curb. Then Lehnsherr started walking. Charles stared, bewildered. Then had to quicken his pace to practically catch up to him. 

‘I thought we were waiting for a car?’

‘No. We’re walking. It’s not far.’ 

‘What’s wrong with taking a car?’ 

Erik laughed. ‘Why? Walking a couple of blocks too much exercise for you?’ 

‘No,’ Charles retorted. The fall night was a little brisk, and he was a little tired, but he certainly wasn’t going to mention it. 

‘What would you like to talk about?’ Erik asked, settling into a pace that was certainly as slow as a trotting pony’s. Charles had to break into a light jog to keep up with Erik’s far longer legs. 

‘You want to talk? Right now?’ 

‘No time like the present,’ Erik said. 

Jesus, the man was insufferable. ‘Fine. I want to know exactly what you want from me. And then I want to set some boundaries.’ 

‘You know exactly what I want from you. I believe I’ve made that clear enough,’ Erik said, and even in the dark Charles could see the dark amusement glinting off him.

‘You’ll need to be clearer.’ 

‘Of course. I want to fuck you. Take you six ways to Sunday. I want you in my bed, on my couch, at the desk in my office. I will fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down the next day. I want your mouth around my-’ 

‘That’s not what I meant!’ Charles reddened furiously, suddenly grateful that it was dark out. ‘Anyways, I don’t mean to be a prude, but these are not the kind of things I want to talk about in public!’ 

‘You’re a prude,’ Erik remarked. He laughed.

‘Yes, I am! And besides, I meant … how exactly are you envisioning this relationship? A night? Two nights? A month? Are you looking for a fling? Did you want anything more?’ 

‘Why don’t we try each other out first? Find out our sexual compatibility first and we can figure the rest out.’ 

‘You mean, do things in the wrong order,’ Charles said flatly. ‘Start at the arse-end of things.’ 

Erik could not hide his amusement. ‘If you want to put it that way, sure. Is that what you want, Charles?’ 

It would be the least complicated thing to do, Charles thought. With his life the way it was, and a child in the midst, a quick affair was, shockingly, the easiest option. 

‘Did you want romance, Charles?’ 

‘No. I’m really too old for it,’ he decided. ‘Fine. I’ll tell you what I want. I wish to avoid contact outside of work hours, please. I can arrange to have a few evenings off. But I won’t have it at my place. I certainly don’t want my child in … all this, whatever it is. We’ll probably have to meet somewhere discreet. We can decide on somewhere neutral, maybe. But don’t come into my workplace anymore. I don’t want anyone at work finding out.’

The silence left behind by his little monologue swirled between them, hanging in the air. 

‘Professor Xavier, I didn’t think you could be so brutal. And cold. Makes me almost feel like a hired whore.’

‘What?’ That actually stopped Charles dead in his tracks.

‘What if I want romance? To have dinner with you? Take you abroad my yacht? Watch a movie with you? Get to know each other a little bit better.’

Charles couldn’t help it. He laughed. ‘I don’t even need to use my telepathy to know you’re making fun of me.’ He started walking again. 

Erik smiled. 

‘How far is your place anyway? It feels like we’ve been walking for a lot longer.’ Charles gestured to the row of shop houses, darkened for the night. 

‘You’re out of shape, professor.’ 

‘Thanks. So now you think I’m in poor shape as well as stupid.’ 

‘Hmm?’

‘You mentioned it previously. You think my opinion on mutant rights are ‘ill-formed’.’

‘I distinctly remember that. But perhaps I should have considered my choice of words more carefully. I meant, “naive beyond belief”. And also, “seriously wrong-headed”. I’m open to either.’ 

‘So you don’t agree with my views.’

‘If we did it your way, we will never achieve true equality for mutants in our lifetime.’

‘Perhaps we are not meant to. True progress takes time. Humans did not evolve into being in a few short years.’

‘We can create change if we had the right catalyst.’ 

‘That’s how wars start, my friend. The progress of our people should not come at the price of human lives. But we don’t need to agree to proceed with this relationship. Are we there yet?’ 

‘Yes, actually.’ 

They stood in front of a tall residential building, lit up beautifully, a glinting skyscraper in the night. It was all glass and golden fixtures, thick carpets that you could sink your feet in, and a discreet professional doorman who briefly and politely acknowledged them with a ‘Good evening, Mr. Lehnsherr.’ 

Charles could not, for the life of him, remember the rest of his journey up to Erik’s apartment. But he remembered being surprised that he wasn’t living in the penthouse, and that the living quarters looked completely spartan. When Erik tapped his pass code in and granted them access, they practically stumbled inside, because the moment the door closed behind them Charles had pounced on him.


	5. Chapter 5

Charles could not remember the last time he had ever acted like this – like an animal, giving in to his baser instincts. He allowed the primitive to overtake his brain. His hands had a mind of their own, trying to cover every square inch of flesh that they could find. The beautiful tuxedo that had been on Erik had been hastily ripped away, carelessly tossed onto the floor of the darkened narrow hallway. 

Erik fought back with his strength, pinning Charles against the wall. Charles pushed back, toppling them until they were off-balance and stumbling, tripping, and slamming hard into the side of a doorway. Charles felt the impact but no pain. Erik bit down hard, on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Charles used the flare of pain to shove Erik back across the room until they landed horizontally on top of a bed. 

Erik let out a huff of air as he landed on his back, but there was really no chance to catch another breath as Charles climbed on him, loving the friction from grinding against Erik’s hard-on. With a turn of deft fingers, he unzipped Erik’s pants. He looked down, and did a double take. 

‘Fuck!’ Charles shouted. ‘You’re not coming anywhere near my arse with that ridiculous thing.’ 

Erik laughed, and Charles felt the tug on his cuff links, pulling his wrists back with a good hard yank so he landed on his back. Now it was his turn to be straddled while Erik methodically stripped away the rest of Charles’ clothing. He leaned down, captured his mouth again, until they were both grunting and gasping. 

Erik broke away, and Charles briefly heard the rip and rustle of a condom packet. He felt Erik’s deft fingers slide it on him, and he groaned at the contact. 

Then when Erik slid down his thighs and put his mouth over Charles’s cock, sucking him into a vortex of heat and pressure, setting every nerve into a hell of unbearable pleasure. And before he could brace against the onslaught of ecstasy, it built to a crest, destroying every thought he had, and his entire being exploded into a million star bursts that blinded him. 

He came back to himself even as his muscles spasmed, spent, lost in a haze of pleasure, leaving him swimming in the afterglow. And then, belatedly, realized what had happened. 

‘Fuck!’ Charles shouted again. ‘Shit!’ 

‘Relax, Charles,’ Erik said. 

‘Shit, I’m sorry,’ Charles said, reaching for Erik. ‘Let me --’

‘Charles. It’s all right. Has it been a while for you?’ 

Charles flopped back onto the bed, clutching his head in embarrassment. Then he sprung up, and began pulling on his shirt. Erik yanked him down, pinned him again. Charles could feel the tough, sinewy muscles against his flesh, and Erik’s tongue thrusting hotly into his mouth silencing his protests. 

Erik’s gaze bore into his. ‘I have all the time in the world, Charles. It doesn’t have to be tonight. I’m not looking for a quick and filthy fuck.’ 

Charles shoved a hand between their bodies and smacked him away. It was like swatting a beast. 

‘What exactly do you want from me?’ 

‘I want everything.’ 

‘We barely know each other.’ 

‘You barely know me,’ Erik corrected. ‘But I’ve known you for a while.’ 

‘What?’ Charles sat up now. ‘Kindly clarify that for me so my next stop isn’t to the police.’ 

Erik sighed, then pushed himself off the bed in one easy movement. He walked to the dresser and pulled out a couple of shirts. He pulled one on, then tossed Charles the other. Charles threw it back at him. ‘No, thank you. I’m good.’ It made him uncomfortable to be dressed in another man’s clothing. Especially after how the evening had gone. 

And he understood that Erik was evading the question. It was not in Charles’ nature to push. 

He followed Erik to the living room. Under the glare of the lights, he inspected the place for himself. It was large, airy and spacious. But it was suspiciously devoid of any of the regular furnishings that made a house a home. There was a gray couch, and a large screen television affixed to the wall. No carpets, pictures, coffee tables – nothing that made the apartment seem the least bit homey. The kitchen was impressive and large, but the counters were very bare. Yet Erik seemed at home, opening the cabinets to retrieve two glasses to fill them with water. 

Charles gulped it down. 

‘Do you want a snack?’ Erik asked. 

Charles frowned. This was getting entirely too domestic for him. He did not feel comfortable. He did not like it. ‘Maybe some tea instead?’ he asked. 

Erik shook his head. ‘Sorry. No tea.’

What kind of house didn’t even have the makings for tea? 

‘You don’t even have tea bags?’ 

‘No. I don’t drink tea.’ 

So they stood facing each other in the cavernous kitchen, sipping water from their glasses. The house was entirely too spartan and minimalist for his tastes. Was this how Erik lived? So simply and without clutter. Surely this wasn’t a house with children. And why didn’t Erik live with his own children? 

It was driving Charles crazy, all these unanswered questions that was borne from his natural curiosity. The fact that he could not use his telepathy to access relevant information was just the icing on top of a shit heap of frustration. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to get to know Erik Lehnsherr as a person, not when his alarm bells were ringing away. He wanted a good fuck, and then he wanted to get out. 

So he was irritated enough to start asking questions that he actually didn’t want the answers for. ‘Why is your mind shielded?’ 

Erik shrugged. ‘So telepaths don’t get to access my thoughts and memories without my permission.’ 

‘Well, it’s not entirely impenetrable, just so you know,’ Charles said snappishly. ‘Any half-decent telepath would be able to break through your shields with some effort.’ 

‘Then why haven’t you?’

‘Because I told you before, that’s very poor manners, darling,’ Charles said. ‘I don’t go digging around unless there’s a need for it. But you can’t deny it looks terribly suspicious when you meet a supposedly normal person who has a shielded mind.’ 

‘I never said I was normal.’ 

‘Who taught you?’ 

‘Emma Frost. My second-in-charge. She has telepathy powers as well.’

‘What exactly do you need to shield? Skeletons in your closet? A murderous past?’ 

‘Corporate secrets, actually,’ Erik said. 

‘Right. You own Eisenhardt Corp. To be honest, I don’t know much about you. I haven’t had the time to Google you at all.’ 

Erik laughed. ‘And I would appreciate if you wouldn’t do that. There’s too much on there about me that isn’t true.’ 

‘Is this really where you live? It looks very bare. More like a … safe house.’ 

‘Yes. Some week days I stay here, especially if I have late nights. My office is right nearby. I usually spend my weekends at another house. Just outside of the city.’ 

‘With your children?’ 

‘Yes. I try not to disrupt their routines too much.’ Erik scrutinized Charles’ face. ‘I don’t expect you to understand, of course. But it is what works for us.’ 

‘Of course,’ Charles said. ‘I understand more than you think, actually.’ 

The two of them commiserated silently about the unspoken travails of parenthood. Then Erik broke the silence. ‘Do you want a sandwich?’ 

‘No,’ Charles said. ‘But thank you. I should really get going. Do you mind if I have a quick shower?’ 

‘No, of course not,’ Erik said, equally politely. 

Charles returned to the bedroom, picking up the carelessly strewn clothes on his way back. He folded Erik’s clothes loosely and placed them on the bed. 

The bathroom, like the rest of Erik’s apartment, was unsurprisingly pristine, each item placed in there serving a specific function. The shower was spacious, and the water pressure generous and the temperature nice and hot. 

Charles was in the middle of groaning with a sluggish pleasure, with the water pounding down on his relaxed muscles. He heard the bathroom door open, sensed Erik coming in before he saw him. 

When Erik opened the shower door, a gush of cold air swirled in. Charles extended an arm, got a good grip on him, and pulled. Their lips met perfectly in the middle, their bodies slapped together under the running water. Charles used both of his hands to pin Erik’s hips to the wall, and then proceeded to go to town on that enormous cock. It was high time for some reciprocation. 

‘Charles...’ Erik whispered, his voice roughened and broken, just as Charles found a particularly sweet spot between his tongue and Erik’s flesh. He summoned all the skills he had, acquired during his younger days of drink and debauchery, and worked to render the man useless with his mouth. Charles liked Erik writhing underneath him. It brought a deep carnal satisfaction to see that he was able to send shock waves of pleasure through Erik. 

As he fucked him to a finish, Erik groaned, his fingers tightening their grip on Charles’ wet hair. 

There. Now they were even. He smirked, and licked a trail back up from Erik’s thigh, and ended with a nip on his shoulder. With Erik still incapacitated, he hopped out of the shower, dried himself briefly. He pulled on his tux again, and tucked the bow tie into the breast pocket. 

Erik came out of bedroom just as Charles was putting on his shoes. 

The disbelief on his face was palpable. ‘What are you doing?’ 

‘Er … going home?’ Charles said. ‘It’s getting late. I have to get home to David.’ 

‘Sweet Jesus,’ Erik said. ‘You’re one cold bastard, Charles.’ 

Charles pursed his lips. ‘Listen, I --’

Erik cut him off. ‘I can have a car downstairs waiting for you if you can stop yourself from running out the door.’ 

‘I’ll just get a taxi,’ he said. 

Erik’s face settled into an icy mask. ‘Sit,’ he said shortly.

Charles walked over to the couch and sat down. 

Erik pulled out a cellphone and barked into it, ‘Car. Now.’ 

They glared at each other from across the room. ‘Thanks?’ Charles ventured. ‘I’d love to do this again, of course. But I’ve a busy schedule --’

‘Tell me you’re not actually brushing me off right now.’ Erik’s voice was cold enough to put a chill in the air. A frozen silence sat right between them. 

Charles swallowed his words. And a deep sigh emerged from an honest place inside of him. ‘I’m not looking for anything long term. I don’t want … complicated. And honestly, Erik. You are, right now, the very definition of a complication. You’re successful, you’re confident, and you’re … insanely good looking. You could have anyone you want. I’ve been going at it so long that I’m struggling to even understand why you would be interested in me, let alone want something beyond a single night. I’m actually even shocked that my earlier performance hasn’t counted against me.’ 

That thawed Erik a little. ‘I’d like you to give this, whatever it is, a chance. Get to know me before you decide. We can be casual if you wish, but we can also be friendly.’ 

Charles considered it. ‘All right. I will try. But I would also like you to explain to me why you know so much more about me than I do about you. It’s quite a devastating blow to a telepath, I have to say.’ 

‘Dinner tomorrow, then. I’ll send you the time and place.’ 

‘I can’t. Not tomorrow. I can’t … don’t want to ask Jean to babysit again. She has her own life. Maybe next weekend.’ 

‘I’ll meet you for lunch, then. On Monday.’ 

‘Pick me up from my office.’ 

‘I thought I wasn’t supposed to come to the university.’ Erik’s phone vibrated once. He looked down at the screen. ‘The car is downstairs, waiting for you.’ 

‘Ah. Thanks,’ Charles said. ‘Well … I’ll see you on Monday, then.’ 

Erik tilted his head at him. 

‘OK then … bye,’ Charles said, lamely. Then he turned and made a quick getaway.


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of his weekend passed by, thankfully without further drama.

On Sunday morning they slept in, and he made David pancakes and took him to the park. They fed the ducks, and managed to make a picnic out of a huge deli sub and a couple of juice boxes. They went home to their lovely little brownstone, and while David went down for an exhausted nap, Charles began work on his next series of lectures on mutation sequences.

He harbored the thought of Erik Lehnsherr like a delicious little secret deep inside his heart.

It had been such a long time since he had sex with someone other than his own hand. It had been thrilling to enjoy sex again with an attractive man, and to know that the best was yet to come.

He texted a couple of cute pictures of David that he took at the park to Raven, who texted back some heart emojis. Then he tried to pay attention to his work, but the thought of seeing Erik again consumed him. He had questions for the man, which he hoped would be answered over lunch the next day. Erik had alluded that he had met Charles before, but if he had, he would definitely have remembered it. Men like Erik Lehnsherr were not easily forgotten.

On Monday morning, he pulled on a sweater over a crisp white shirt, in anticipation of the cooler fall weather. He threw his packed lunch into his bag, and David’s lunchbox into his. They had breakfast, then out the door, to daycare and then work.

He sensed a familiar, friendly presence inside his office. Moira sat at his desk, typing away at her laptop. She barely looked up as he walked in. ‘You’re twenty minutes late.’

Charles scoffed. ‘I’m always twenty minutes late. Don’t tell me you’re surprised.’ He placed his briefcase under the table and perched his hip against the table. ‘You have your own office,’ he said.

‘Listen, great job on the fundraiser night. Makes me proud to be your boss, and friend.’

‘Thanks,’ he said dryly.

‘But I’m here about the Mutant Youth Forum.’

‘What about it?’ Charles asked. It was an annual event held every October, and the university was one of the four others to host this major forum.

‘I want you to join the panel for our Student-Faculty planning committee,’ Moira said.

‘What,’ Charles said, flatly now. ‘Why?’

Moira goggled at him. ‘Why, you work-shy bastard.’

‘I’m not,’ Charles said. ‘But I really am pressed for time. We’re practically hurtling toward the end of the year, and I find that I’ve barely been spending any time with David. Heck, he’s in daycare five days a week, with far longer hours than mine. Then on the weekends, and sometimes the evenings, I’ve been tossing him to Jean. If this goes on any longer I swear he’s going to forget that I’m his father.’

‘Oh, Charles.’

‘That’s why I was thinking of going part-time for next year,’ Charles said.

‘That’s true, it’s not like you need the money anyway.’

‘Hey,’ Charles said. ‘It’s not about the money and you know it. I love my job. But I’ve made a commitment to David. He’s going to be in school soon enough, and I’m happy to come back full-time.’

‘Listen,’ Moira said. ‘I totally get it. How about this? I’ll consider your request to drop your hours next year if you join this committee. All you have to do is attend the weekly meetings, listen to the students and faculty present their ideas for activities, then just say yes or no. That’s it.’

‘Fiiiiine,’ Charles said. Moira patted him on the head as she walked past with her laptop. ‘I knew you would come through! You’re my best staff member, babe!’

‘I heard you say that to Logan last week,’ he remarked as she walked out. Moira gave him a snarky smirk.

‘You know how much of a cranky bear he is. Gotta make him happy somehow. Anyways, let’s have our celebratory lunch today!’ she said.

‘Yeah, sure-’ Hang on. Erik. Lunch. ‘No, sorry, can’t. Rain check again, sorry.’

‘Why?’ Moira said, stopping dead in her tracks. ‘This is the second time in a row. You’re always gagging for an excuse to have a drink.’

‘Excuse me?’ Charles said, only mildly offended. ‘I have lunch with a friend today. I’ll go for drinkies with you after work tomorrow if we knock off early. My last class tomorrow ends at four.’

‘Perfect!’ Moira said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then.’

So Charles sat down to work, tapping away at his computer until his lecture at 9am. Following that, he had a brief consult with his teaching assistants, and then another with a newer member of the teaching faculty, who needed a little guidance. As far as Charles was concerned, he had a very productive morning. Anything to keep his mind off his impending lunch hour.

Nope. Don’t think about it, he told himself. Forge on.

And he did.

So that was why the sudden knock on his door had startled him. He directed his snappish thought towards the man who stood in the doorway. ‘I really, really hate it that your mind is shielded. Is this how regular humans feel? Because it’s intensely annoying.’

‘You probably rely too much on your telepathy to detect human presence,’ Erik said. ‘Your regular senses are atrophied from lack of use.’

Charles pursed his lips. Then he looked at his computer. ‘You’re early,’ he said. He motioned for Erik to close the door behind him. ‘Did anyone see you?’

‘Pretty much everyone,’ Erik answered. ‘I was screaming your name on the way in. Didn’t you hear me?’

Charles got up and walked over to Erik, who stood with his back to the door, one hand in his pocket. He was wearing another one of those bespoke suits, judging from the way it fit him. This one was dark navy, with a reddish copper tie. The man smelled very good. And he wore a watch that cost roughly a couple years of David’s daycare fees.

‘Exactly how rich are you?’ Charles asked. ‘I’ve never dated a rich man before.’

‘Maybe because you were the rich man to all the other people you’ve dated before,’ Erik answered. He bent down and caught Charles’ mouth, hot and insistent, a simple greeting of ‘hello I would like to fuck you soon’. Charles found himself responding more easily now, letting himself enjoy the sensation of pressing up to Erik’s lanky lean frame. Lately all the physical affection he had been getting came from the soft squishy body of a child slowly shedding his baby fat.

‘We have a table at –’

‘Or we could just stay here,’ Charles said. He ground his rock hard erection against Erik’s thighs, and watched the man’s eyes narrow and his gaze darken.

‘You’re breaking your own rules already, Charles?’ Erik smirked. Charles retaliated by slowly unbuckling Erik’s belt. Erik unzipped his, and they watched each other as their hands jerked off each other’s cock. He sought to kiss Erik as their motions became even more frenzied.

The illicit act of carrying on in his own office simultaneously shamed him and turned him on. The room heaved with the heat generated between them, quiet except for the insistent slap of skin against flesh and their labored breathing and choking moans.

Then Erik grabbed hold of the both of them, covering Charles’ hand with his larger one, and whipped them both towards the cliff edge, flying until they were both falling. Charles muffled his strangled moan straight into Erik’s pristine jacket as his knees buckled underneath him.

‘Holy shit,’ Charles managed to eke out when he was finally able to string two thoughts together again. Then realized where they were. Charles ran to grab the box of tissues on his desk to clean up. ‘I can’t believe this. We’re still in my office. Damn it, why’d you let me break my own rule?’

‘Don’t look to me to be your moral compass. I’m happy to do you anywhere,’ Erik said, chucking his used tissue into the bin.

Charles scowled. ‘Now I feel all sticky. And terrible. And guilty. I can’t believe it.’

‘That you defiled the sanctity of your profession?’ Erik snorted. ‘Relax, Charles. This is just a dinky windowless office. We didn’t paint the walls with semen. And you’re certainly not my professor. Although --’

‘Don’t even finish that sentence,’ Charles said. Then breathed heavily. ‘What now?’

‘Lunch,’ Erik said.

‘No, no, no,’ Charles said, catching sight of the time. ‘Lunch time is over. I have to get back to work. I’ll text you. About lunch. Maybe sometime this week. And we’re not meeting here ever again.’

‘You don’t even have my number,’ Erik said.

‘Right. Sorry.’ Charles grabbed his phone off the table and handed it to Erik, who typed in his number.

‘This was fun,’ Erik said. ‘We’ll do it again.’

‘We’re not doing it again in here,’ Charles replied emphatically. He straightened his sweater and pants before opening the door, enjoying the little frisson of excitement when Erik grabbed his butt. Then whatever smart comment he had at the ready died in his throat when he spotted Moira coming towards them.

‘Mr. Lehnsherr!’ Moira trilled. ‘How lovely to bump into you here. I don’t know if you remember me, but –’

‘Professor MacTaggert. Of course I remember.’

‘I wanted to thank you for the very generous donation, Mr Lehnsherr,’ Moira’s gaze subtly darted towards Charles, then back to Erik. Charles wondered if his hair was tousled or his clothes too wrinkled, and hoped his red and bruised mouth wasn’t too noticeable. But Moira’s expression never changed. She radiated warmth and charm.

‘I hope that the night was a successful one, professor. Perhaps we will meet again at the next one?’ Erik asked.

Moira nodded. ‘Of course. You’re going out to lunch with Professor Xavier here, of course? I don’t wish to interrupt any further.’

‘No!’ Charles jumped in, with a laugh that he hoped wasn't suspicious. ‘We just had lunch! I’ll see you around, Mr. Lehnsherr.’ He waved.

Erik was blatantly amused. ‘I’ll see you soon, Professor Xavier.’ Then he turned and strode down the hallway. They watched him until he disappeared.

Moira slowly craned her neck around to peer at him, a leer on her face. ‘Charles Francis Xavier, you sneaky bastard.’

Charles began to protest vehemently. But then he caught a glimpse of Moira’s realization coupled with humor at his expense. He gave up and sighed. ‘That was a terrible performance, wasn’t it. How did you know?’

‘You should stick to your day job,’ Moira advised. ‘And I saw him coming in. He isn’t exactly the wallflower type. Hard to not notice a man like that, especially if you have eyes. And you two were in there for 45 minutes. Clearly not eating lunch.’

Charles coughed. ‘We were just … talking. About the donation.’

‘Save it,’ Moira said. ‘You’re such an idiot. Well, I have to say, I’m shocked. How long has this been going on?’

‘Not very long. Please, if you could keep it on the down low for now.’

Moira snorted. ‘I’m shouting it from the rooftops. Is it serious at all?’

Charles considered this. ‘No?’

Moira lifted an eyebrow. ‘Is that a statement or a question? Either way, I’m loving it. But quit using your office as a love hotel. I don’t want students walking in on you.’

‘OK, OK,’ Charles said, shame-faced. ‘Sorry. Won’t happen again.’

Moira waved dismissively at him and walked back to her own office across the hall. ‘I have an extra sandwich in the staff room fridge. I know you haven’t had lunch yet.’

‘Thanks,’ he mumbled.

Two doors down, Logan, the professor who specialized in mutant history, wheeled out of his office on his ergonomic desk chair. ‘Yo, Xavier. You getting up to dirty shit in your office, dude? You kinky bastard,’ he guffawed.

‘Sod off, Logan,’ Charles shouted. Logan laughed, wheeling back into his office.

Charles dropped his face into his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers, just wanted to drop a note to say thanks for reading. I promise that I'm reading your comments, and appreciate the support. Some of them even made me crap my pants from laughing. I'll be posting fairly regularly, since I'm a little ahead with the writing. Also because as a reader, I personally do not have the patience to wait for chapters. Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

Charles could not believe he was doing this.

But he was. It was too late to back out. Probably.

He stood in front of Erik’s door, on Saturday morning. He had shown up completely uninvited, and had rang the doorbell.

It was a mistake. They didn’t have that sort of a relationship. They hadn’t talked about exclusivity. Charles just assumed Erik was of a similar mind. But now he wasn’t so sure. It just that he hadn’t really had the time to think it through. Raven had shown up the evening before, and crashed in the spare bedroom that in reality, really belonged to her. She had been exhausted, she said, after her overseas trip. And she wanted to spend some time with her nephew. Early that morning, David had been thrilled to see his aunt, and she said she would take him for a walk and brunch.

And all Charles could think of was that that window of opportunity he had been waiting for had finally arrived.

He could have happily kissed Raven. Instead, he waved goodbye to the both of them, send her off with snacks and water bottles. Then he got ready, grabbed his wallet and phone, jumped into a taxi and headed straight for Erik’s apartment.

That was before he remembered that Erik did not always spend his nights in the apartment. He had another house somewhere outside the city. At any rate, no one answered the door. He turned to go. The sense of disappointment inside warred with relief. At least this way, no harm, no foul.

His phone rang.

‘Charles?’ Erik said. ‘What are you doing in front of my apartment?’

‘What?’ Charles looked around frantically. ‘Um. Can you see me or something?’

‘Yes,’ Erik said. ‘I see you pacing right now, with what I’m presuming to be some anxiety and embarrassment. The doorbell connects to my phone when I’m not home, and streams me a video of the visitor.’

‘Well … um. So I guess you’re not home.’

‘Nope,’ Erik said, and now Charles detected sounds of his quickened breathing.

‘Sorry,’ Charles said, suddenly mortified. ‘I didn’t know you were with someone.’

‘I’m not. I’m out on a run.’

‘Right. So … uh. Pity you aren’t here. I’ll see you next time, then.’

‘Hang on. I’m already turning around. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’ve already unlocked the door for you. Go in and wait for me.’

‘No, it’s all right. Carry on with your run. I’ll come again.’

‘Go in, Charles,’ Erik commanded, then hung up.

Charles stared at his phone. ‘How rude,’ he muttered. He pushed the unlocked door open and hesitantly shuffled in.

In the daylight, the entire apartment looked different. But somehow, still the same. Sunlight flooded the room through the large ceiling-to-floor windows, reflected off the enormous matte gray tiles. There was still the same sparse furniture, and the terribly bare kitchen. It somehow made him feel bad about his own home. His was cluttered, a little messy, but with signs of life all over the place. This place just felt impersonal and cold.

Charles walked over to the fridge and opened it. There was a door compartment, packed neatly with rows and rows of eggs. There was milk in the fridge and a pitcher of filtered water. There were a few boxes of cooked food, stacked neatly. Vegetables arranged like soldiers in the crisper. A fruit bowl in the fridge with oranges and apples. Who the hell put fruit in the fridge?

He closed the door. Nothing in the apartment looked out of place. Did Erik have OCD tendencies? It felt too much of an invasion going into the closed doors, so Charles took a seat on the couch and waited.

The musical two-tone beep of the lock granting access roused him, and he straightened up in time to watch Erik walk in, sweaty and breathing heavily, dressed in a gray tracksuit. He poured himself a tall glass of water, and gulped it down. Then he placed the glass in the sink, and stood behind the counter, watching Charles.

‘Hello,’ Charles said. He stood awkwardly and wondered what to say next. He wanted to tell him that Erik had been consuming his thoughts as of late. He was hoping to bring this relationship to full consummation so he could, for once, stop thinking of sex with the man. At least, that was what he was hoping for.

Erik walked around the counter and extended a hand to Charles, leading him back to Erik’s ridiculously spartan bedroom. And yes, the bed had been ruthlessly made. It was so weird to see this part of Erik, but it kind of turned him on. The man was quirky as fuck.

‘Let me take a quick shower,’ Erik said.

‘That’s all right,’ Charles said, and it was. He hugged his torso and breathed in the smell of clean sweat, and the heat from his sun-warmed clothes. Charles began helping Erik strip his clothes, letting them drop from his fingers and onto the floor. Then the wild call began throbbing again deep inside of him, singing through his veins, draining all the blood from his brains to his groin.

Erik reached over to his beside drawer and pulled out a thin white tube, and two silver foil-wrapped packets. Their movements were hasty and yet precise. Charles dropped to his knees, worshiping at the throne of Erik’s rock hard flesh. Erik stroked the back of his head, and shoved him backwards.

‘Bed,’ Charles gasped, as Erik went to town on his cock. ‘I’m too old to be fucked on the floor.’

Erik chuckled briefly before scooping him up and tossing him on the bed. He turned Charles over, squeezed the bottle of lube generously. The slick of cool liquid made him wince, but the finger that followed drew him into a soft, unexpected moan. As Erik worked to open him up, Charles clutched at his shoulders, letting himself feel the burn and stretch. His body obediently followed the rhythm that was starting to build. One finger became two, then three. The sting was slightly familiar yet completely new, and he breathed through it until he whispered his readiness.

By now his body was covered with a light sheen of sweat, his muscles tensing and bracing and flexing until they were finally loose, limber, ready to accept more pain and pleasure. He forced himself to relax as Erik took up position behind him, a knee braced on the mattress, a hand on his back and the other against his hip, steadying him. Then he slowly eased in and Charles felt only pain, until Erik started moving, then the pain suddenly morphed into a slow burning pleasure.

It became a rhythm, an all-consuming focus, and Charles began to move with him. There was something inside that was unleashed, the deep primal animal that had been buried four years prior.  
He became a purely sexual being, his thoughts scattered, unable to coalesce. The moans began low and quiet at first, becoming dissonant staccato chords, unwittingly pounded out of him as the pressure became unbearable.

The pleasure surged to the peak, expanding so enormously until he could see no more, his vision narrowed in a pinhole, and he used his instincts to turn and grasp at the man who had tossed him off the edge. The kiss they shared was sweet and salty, strangely intimate and yet utterly devoid of anything greater.

And for a brief moment, both their control slipped enough for his telepathy to find purchase, a foothold into the other mind in the room. He caught glimpses of Erik’s mind, before his own faculties deserted him in a desperate bid for release. His heart beat pounded in his ears as he felt Erik stroke to his own finish. They collapsed into a sweaty, tangled heap, still connected. His heart pounded in his ears, still galloping insanely.

He let out a shuddery breath, and tried to talk. Nothing came out, and he was still breathing hard. Wait. Take two.

‘What the fuck just happened?’ Charles rasped.

Erik pulled out, rolled, giving Charles a quick slap on his bottom. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.

Charles waited until his heart rate came back to normal. He closed his eyes, hoping that the room would stop spinning and settle. His breathing evened out, and he briefly registered Erik’s movements before he slipped into a light doze.

He jerked awake, the rude splash of consciousness wiping away sleep as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. There was a blanket covering his body. He sat up, groggy and disoriented. How long had he been out?

Erik had placed a fresh towel, folded in a perfect square, on the side of the bed. Charles slipped out and jumped into the shower, wanting the water to wake the rest of him up. He toweled off, pulled on his sweater and pants, and padded out to the hallway. He slipped on his shoes and joined Erik, who was in the kitchen.

‘Sorry about that. How long was I asleep?’

‘Close to an hour,’ Erik said. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Refreshed. I guess I must have needed that nap.’

‘How do you feel about some food?’ Erik said.

Charles could actually feel himself inching away. ‘Um. I really need to get back.’

‘A quick sandwich isn’t going to take long.’

‘No …’ Charles said. ‘I didn’t come here to eat. I think sharing a meal is just … a step too much for me. We don’t have to do it.’

The look on Erik’s face could only be described as exasperated.

‘I’ll take whatever it is you’re making there to go, though,’ Charles offered.

In icy silence, Erik assembled a sandwich of some kind, his movements economic and efficient. He folded the sandwich in wax paper, and then slid it over the counter. His next words were cutting. ‘You are being ridiculous, Charles.’

‘I don’t want to discuss it, Erik. I’ll see you again.’

‘Wait,’ Erik said. ‘I won’t be able to see you for the next two weeks. I leave tomorrow for Stockholm. I have some business meetings, and the children are joining me for a vacation. I’ll call you when I get back.’

Charles felt a strange sense of deflation. Disappointment, mixed in with relief. It was a curious feeling.

Suddenly, he knew why.

‘Well,’ Charles said cheerfully. ‘Thanks for the sandwich then. Bye.’ He smiled at Erik, and forced himself to turn his back, walk down the hallway, and exit the door.

He strolled down the path, into the beautiful fall sunshine, feeling the heat emanate from the wax paper in his hand. He took a detour, wound his way through the park, where he sat down and opened it up. It wasn’t an ordinary sandwich that Erik made for him, but a Reuben. It was still warm when he bit through it. The salt of the pastrami hit his tongue first, followed by the tartness of sauerkraut under the crunch of the dense rye bread.

Erik made a great Reuben.

He sighed. They had a good run while it lasted. Charles had no intention to pursue anything further with Erik, casual or not. The sex was too fantastic, and the man was an onion, and each encounter peeled away another layer. Charles liked what he saw, perhaps a little too much. It was like a little infatuation that he could foresee would spiral into a full-on addiction. He wanted to put a stop to it before he lost control, before it was too late to back out. Erik leaving for two weeks was extraordinary good luck. Quitting cold turkey was the way to go.

After all, they had some good times. And that had to be enough.

And in all honesty, he did not know if he himself was the kind of man that could fall in love. He wasn’t particularly interested in finding out. 

So it was best to quit while they were still ahead.


	8. Chapter 8

But of course, thinking about it was a lot easier than actually doing it.

His self-imposed exile began the moment he received Erik’s one text message, asking him if he was all right. Very carefully, while still clear-headed, he had deleted it, as well as Erik’s contact number.

The next three weeks were a special kind of hell, the lowest circle consigned to sinners who no longer had a single chance of redemption. He vacillated between frustration and irritation, first cousins to helpless anger. He was also facing the unexpected withdrawal effects of quitting sex with Erik. That was how Charles knew he had made the right decision. Three times and he had been irrevocably hooked. Imagine if it had been more than that, or more frequently.

It had just been a one night stand that had run a few days longer than anticipated, he reasoned with himself. But that was no consolation when he awoke from his night sleeps more sluggish than usual, having spent the night tossing and turning. The daily routine which had seemed so comforting and predictable before were more like chores now, on a long, never-ending to do list. He practically had to force himself to tick the boxes.

The people around him seem to stay away, probably because he had projected a clear warning sign to everyone in the vicinity. David was grumpier than usual, always wanting to be picked up and cuddled. Raven had gone away for work again, but had probably fled, knowing that her brother was about as cuddly as a cactus.

His telepathy also seemed to be going a little haywire, selectively picking up the negative emotions and feelings that belonged to the people who lived in the neighborhood. They had always hung in the air, but his current mind seemed to be drawn towards them, and he had to put in double the effort to keep them at bay. So he simmered in a self-made soup of silence and frustration, exhaustion and resignation.

But his real low point came two days after he had rejected a phone call from a number, presumably Erik’s. Erik seemed to have received the message loud and clear, because after that there was only radio silence. David had been especially whiny, and Charles had taken the time to make him pizza from scratch. He cut the pizza into thin strips, and placed it on David’s favorite Lightning McQueen plate. He made him a chocolate milkshake and put a blue straw in it.

‘Pink straw,’ David said.

‘There’s a blue one in there, darling. I’ll get you a pink straw next time.’

David calmly upended the plate of pizza. Charles breathed for a minute or two. Then he reached over and flipped the plate back up the right way. ‘Eat.’

David swung a hand and the milkshake went flying. An arc of chocolate milk soared through the air, landing on the table, the walls, the floor, and all over David himself. Then he launched himself off the booster seat, landed on his hip, and began screaming bloody murder. The loud incoherent screaming wailed through the house, like a siren, setting Charles’ teeth on edge, worsening the headache that he’d been suffering since morning.

Charles stared. Then he found his two fingers had gone to his temple, the word ‘sleep’ at the very edge of his tongue, before he realized what he was doing. He was about to use his telepathy to knock his own son out. What the fuck was he doing?

Instead, he picked up the squalling, sweaty, screaming little boy and put him in bed, waiting until his cries subsided into hitching sobs as he fell into a deep slumber. Then with the same calm, he set to cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, tossing the pizza and shake into the trash, wiping up the sloppy chocolate liquid on every surface.

He rarely lost control like that. He was so, so ashamed, letting his circumstances control his responses. It was enough. He pulled himself out of the funk, and put on the radio on low, and blocked out all the emotions and thoughts around him, including his own, shutting down his telepathy until he could focus on the tasks right in front of him.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. So he kept limping along that way, into one, then two, then three more days until Friday evening, where he found that he was thoroughly drained. It was terrible to have to figure out everyone’s feelings and emotions purely from facial expression and body language alone. How did ordinary humans do it? He had dragged an equally exhausted David home.

Charles paused in the act of turning the key at the front door. The door was unlocked. Had he forgotten to lock it that morning? It was certainly possible. Then he opened the door, and he knew that wasn’t it. He could smell the expensive cologne lingering in the air. And he walked in, setting his briefcase down with a little thump of anger, as he glared at the man sitting in his living room.

‘How did you get in?’ Charles hissed.

‘Really, Charles? That’s your question?’ Erik said, lifting a hand briefly. Charles heard the locks in the front door engage and then unlock repeatedly, almost like they were taunting him. Right.

‘You’re breaking and entering,’ Charles said. ‘And I don’t even know how on earth you know where I live. You need to leave before I dial the police,’ Charles said, carefully to keep his voice low.

‘If you were really afraid, or you thought you were in real danger, Charles, I would leave immediately. But right now you look like you just want to take a swing at me.’

‘Yeah, I’d like to –’ Charles broke off as David came up to him, suddenly aware there was someone else in their home. ‘Hi,’ David said, shyly.

Erik got on one knee and held out his hand for David to shake. ‘Hello, David. My name is Erik.’

‘Hello,’ David smiled. He came out from behind his father and walked to Erik, handing him one of the two matchbox cars that he was holding. ‘This is green,’ he said. ‘You can have the blue one. Come play.’ He immediately got down and ran the car across the carpet. ‘Let’s race.’

Erik got down on the floor, and began playing with David. The man was dressed in yet another one of his ridiculously expensive suits, this one the color of smoke, with a striped purple tie. Charles watched wildly, wondering what alternate universe had he dropped into.

‘David,’ Charles said. ‘Go to your room right now, please. I need to have a chat with Erik.’

‘But I want to play with him.’

Charles turned his full parental glare onto David. And for once, the kid cooperated. He silently picked up his cars, and went to his room. He knew someone was in trouble from the tone of his father’s voice, but it was just such a novelty that it was someone else.

Erik straightened, towering over Charles. ‘I’ll give you a choice, Charles. I will wait here until you are ready to talk, or you can meet me over at my apartment once you find someone to watch your son.’

‘I’m not going to do this right now,’ Charles said.

‘Pick one,’ Erik said, positively icy now.

‘Fine,’ Charles snapped. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘No.’

Charles exploded with anger. ‘Goddamnit, Erik. Has anyone every told you that you’re a rude son of a bitch?’

‘I’ve been called worse,’ Erik said. ‘You get a couple of hours. That should be enough time. If you’re not at my place at eight tonight, I’ll come back over and drag you there myself. Is that clear?’

‘You can’t just order me around, Erik Lehnsherr. I’m not one of your lowly peons.’

‘Then don’t be a fucking coward, Charles. Say it to my face, instead of running away with your tail between your legs.’

Charles hadn’t felt so angry in a while now. He fixed his glare on Erik, who stubbornly held his gaze.

The strained silence was broken by David, who poked his head out of his room. ‘Uh oh,’ the little boy said clearly. ‘You done a boo-boo, Erik. Can I play with him, daddy?’

Erik walked to David, and got down on both knees. ‘I need to go home now, David. It was so very nice meeting you. I’m sure we can play again another day, all right?’ David nodded sadly, and then, unprompted, gave Erik a hug.

Charles was a little freaked out about how warm Erik’s voice could sound, and how gentle he was with David. He certainly never anticipated seeing this side of him.

Erik said good night to David, then barely spared him a glance as he brushed past Charles on his way out. Charles resisted throwing something breakable against the back of that perfectly coiffed head.

He threw together some chicken nuggets for dinner, and boiled up some peas and carrots to make it more nutritionally acceptable. David ate his nuggets happily, and watched a half-hour of Sesame Street. Charles had texted Raven to ask if she would come over, saying something urgent had come up. Raven, as usual, was brilliant.

She was over in twenty minutes, just as Charles was brushing David’s teeth. ‘Hey, buddy,’ Raven said, with her signature easy warmth. David leaned over to give her a hug, and sprayed toothpaste foam into her shirt. She was in her favorite blonde form, but once she got settled she was happy to roam around in her own skin.

‘I’ll explain later,’ Charles said. ‘But everyone’s all right, I just need to go talk to someone. It’s important.’

‘I got it,’ Raven said, already playfully wrestling David into his pajamas. ‘Go on. You can tell me tomorrow.’

Charles took a taxi to Erik’s apartment, but when he stood in front of the door, he had half a mind to turn around and go home right now. Erik had no right to enter his home, and Charles would have gladly beaten him to death with a blunt heavy weapon right now. But Erik was right. Charles owed him an explanation.


	9. Chapter 9

The door opened by itself. Charles walked in and joined Erik at the kitchen, where the man stood on the other side of the island, his hands splayed on the counter, leaning into the stone. He was still in his shirt and waist coat, tie still neatly done up. There was nothing on him that was loosened or relaxed. His face was an emotionless mask, and those eyes, hot and angry, tracked him in a predatory manner.

That was fine, because Charles was spoiling for a fight.

‘I can’t believe you entered my house. Completely uninvited,’ Charles snapped.

‘How else would I have contacted you?’ Erik raised an eyebrow. ‘Called you? Sent you a message?’

‘Fine. This is over, Erik. I can’t even believe I’m standing here arguing over the state of our non-existent relationship. We had sex, mate, and it’s over. Yes, it was hot sex. I enjoyed it. You enjoyed it. But I don’t understand why you’re so hung up about something we didn’t even discuss properly. Have a nice life, Erik. I am done with all this. And you.’

‘Are you done?’ Erik asked. ‘Actually done? Or do you want to continue with your self-indulgent monologue for a little longer? Let me know when you’re done, so we can get serious.’

‘You think I’m not serious?’

‘Why are you so terrified about having a relationship with me?’

‘Me? Terrified? I’m not scared. I just don’t know anything about you.’

‘Is that it? After three weeks of no contact, that’s your pitiful excuse?’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Charles yelled.

‘You’re telling me that you’re walking away from me, three days into hot mind-blowing sex, because you were too busy with said sex, or too scared, to ask me about myself?’ Erik shouted back. ‘At least come up with a better excuse than that, Charles.’ 

‘Get over yourself!’ Charles shouted. ‘You’re just a cocky, puffed-up peacock with a big dick and a big ego.’ 

‘I assure you, other than my big dick, I have other good qualities. One of them is not running away when things are good because I’m too scared about what that might involve.’ 

Charles was so, so close to picking up something heavy and hard and tossing it straight into Erik’s face. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing inside Erik’s stupidly bare apartment. 

‘You fear commitment,’ Erik finished, quietly now. ‘It’s all right, Charles. I can follow your pace.’ 

The matter-of-fact way that he said it deflated Charles’ anger, just a little. ‘We’re not done with this “us” thing, are we?’

‘Not by a long shot,’ Erik said. ‘Because both know there’s something here.’

Charles groaned. ‘I said before, Erik. I don’t want anything complicated.’

‘And you think I do.’

‘Well, yes! You’re the one who’s been pursuing me like a dog with a bone. You come into my life, all good-looking and hot in that body, and especially in those suits, and you’re nice, and weirdly enough you’re always feeding me.’

‘What?’ Erik said.

‘I can see, with my own flipping eyes, where this shit is going!’

‘And where is it going?’

‘You know, Erik! Why do you make me say it?’ he exploded. ‘We’re obviously hurtling towards the insane idea of dating each other. And the only thing I really know about you is that you’re great in the sack. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’ve put myself through all this self-torture only to arrive at this point anyway. Jesus,’ Charles said. ‘I need rules. I want rules.’

‘No,’ Erik said.

‘Fuck, you make me so angry,’ Charles said, breathing hard through his nostrils, afraid that his next move might actually involve real violence.

Erik finally moved. He started rounding the corner.

‘No, wait,’ Charles said. ‘We aren’t done discussing this!’

‘You’re always talking, Charles. Shut up for once.’ Erik leaned in, braced his arms against Charles and lifted him, practically slamming him up against the wall. Charles bit him on the shoulder, then howled in outrage when Erik bit him right back. He supposed he deserved that.

‘Fuck, fuck, hurry up, you bloody arsehole!’ Charles shouted, as he half-dragged, half-stumbled into the bedroom with Erik, his hungry mouth unable to get enough of the man. 

They wrestled back and forth, until Erik managed to pin him on the bed. Charles twisted his body, then reached over to yank open the bureau. He grabbed the tube, and frantically squeezed an excessive amount of lube all over his hands. He slapped some on Erik’s cock, and his own ass, teasing and rubbing and stretching.

‘Charles,’ Erik panted, reaching for him. But Charles was faster. He used his body weight to flip and pin Erik down, then got up and straddled him, guiding Erik’s cock into himself. The first contact was brutal enough for both of them to start exhaling harshly, but Charles didn’t want to think, didn’t want to slow down. He whipped them both into an animalistic frenzy, and it wasn’t until his muscles began screaming from the exertion that he had to slow down.

Erik’s hands gripped his hips firmly, pushing him on, arching his own hips so he could piston into Charles more deeply. Charles gritted his teeth, breaking through the pain in order to reach the waves of pleasure that deafened and blinded him. Erik’s hand stroked him firmly, faster, and faster until Charles finally came with a shout, and Erik was close behind him, surging to a finish. Charles collapsed on him, hearing the twin beats of their hearts pounding madly.

‘I’m too old for this,’ Charles said.

‘Shh,’ Erik said, barely moving. ‘Once I get my breath back, I promise I will listen to what you have to say.’

‘This is honestly very weird for me. I’ve never had sex that feels like this,’ Charles said. ‘We really need to talk. How come I always lose my mind when I see you?’

Erik’s eyes rolled closed and Charles could feel the sigh blossoming in his chest. ‘Fine. We will talk. After we get cleaned up.’

By the time they blindly stumbled out of the shower half an hour later, Charles could barely feel his legs. He practically slithered up the kitchen stool and gratefully accepted the glass of water (what else?) that Erik handed him.

Erik then began slicing some apples and oranges that he took out from the fridge. Charles grimaced a little. ‘All right. Some ground rules.’

Erik frowned at him. ‘Aren’t we done with that?’

Charles ignored him. ‘First things first. If we’re dating each other, I’m expecting that there’s no third party involved.’

‘Naturally.’

‘I really don’t want to get the children involved until we know each other a whole lot better. We can go on lunches that don’t involve sex, and I’ll try to free up some evenings for dinner. Maybe on the weekend, when I can get babysitting. At your apartment. And maybe you can come to my place after David’s gone to bed. But no sex. At my house.’

Erik looked completely exasperated.

‘Why? What do you want that’s different?’ Charles asked defensively.

‘We’re two grown adults, Charles,’ Erik said. ‘I think it’s fine to get to know each other without being the other person’s dirty little secret. We know we’re both serious about this. We don’t have to sneak around. But,’ Erik held up a hand. ‘I understand where you’re coming from. So yes, fine. We’ll do what you want.’

‘Thank you,’ Charles said. ‘And now you tell me how you know so much about me. It’s creepy and I don’t like it.’

‘I’m not a stalker, if that’s what you’re insinuating,’ Erik said archly. ‘We met nearly five years ago now, in front of the Luna bar. Downtown.’

Charles flipped through his memories and found nothing. ‘How come I don’t remember? Because if I met you, I certainly would remember it. Trust me.’

‘Well, you were wildly drunk, and-’

‘You didn’t have sex with me while I was drunk, did you?’ Charles asked, horrified. The look Erik gave him was laced with contempt.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I did not go anywhere near you. We just had a chat. And a drunk Charles is a very talkative Charles. Back then, you were raiding through my mind and – ’

‘You weren’t shielded then?’

‘Not back then, no. You were sifting through my mind, my memories, my thoughts,’ Erik continued. ‘And you were telling me exactly what you were doing, describing all the crap that you were pulling out from me. I was going through some tough times back then, and you offered, quite sweetly too, to make me feel better by destroying all my bad memories.’

Charles let out a little squeak of mortification.

‘But you said a lot of things too, that made me think about things in a different light. Helped me move on with my life. I know a lot of it was drunken talk, but you helped. Then you puked on me and I sent you home in a taxi. That was before I realized that I never caught your name. I didn’t know who you were. Only a stranger with a British accent and powerful telepathy with no finesse. You kept harping on about a woman who was pregnant with your baby. David’s mother, I presume.’

Charles only vaguely remembered it. The afternoon prior, Gabrielle had told him she wanted to give her child up for adoption. She had found out too late to have an abortion, but she wanted him to know because she would need him to sign the forms to declare his consent. That was a singularly horrible afternoon. He had found out that he had fathered a child and that he was not going to be a father, all in one fell swoop. He had been furious and terrified and ashamed. And he had gotten blind drunk that night. 

The morning after, he had woken up with a hellish hangover and an overwhelming desire to do the right thing by his unborn child. And he had.

‘I sort of remember before and after, Erik. But I don’t remember you.’

‘I’m not surprised. You were so drunk you literally couldn’t remember your own name. Anyways, it really was a couple of years later that I saw a picture of you in the Mutant Times Weekly. They were doing a profile on you and the award that you were up for.’

‘I didn’t win it,’ Charles said.

‘I’ve followed your career, on and off. To be honest, I have been busy with work, and there wasn’t room for anything else. I wasn’t really expecting to meet you again, but then I did. At Il Mare. It was a pure coincidence that I heard Alex Summers mention your name. So I paid your check.’

‘I see.’

Erik placed the cut apples and oranges on a plate, and pushed it towards Charles. He stared at it. ‘You can eat an apple without cutting it up, you know.’

Erik said, ‘I know.’

‘And you don’t have to put fruit in the fridge. They can stay out at room temperature.’

‘I know,’ Erik said again. ‘How would you like to meet up tomorrow? For lunch. Maybe dinner as well.’

‘I’ll try, but –’

‘Bring David along. It’s only an hour’s drive, and you two can stay in the spare bedroom. I’m sure he’ll have fun with my children.’

‘In your house, just outside the city? Meeting your family?’ Charles said. ‘No.’

Erik rolled his eyes.

‘I thought we just talked about this,’ Charles said, annoyed. ‘You’re just strong-arming me into meeting your children.’

‘Not really,’ Erik said shortly. ‘But you’re the one going on and on about not knowing anything about me. Here I am, trying to show you a different part of my life, and you complain that I’m moving too quickly.’

Charles glowered at him. But Erik wasn’t done.

‘You say all this shit about me, but what about you? You’re trying to hide different compartments of your life away from me. But then you want me to open up? And when I do, you get scared.’

Charles remained silent. He would probably die before admitting it, but Erik had a point. 

Erik tossed the fruit scraps in the bin and washed the chopping board. ‘I get it, Charles. As a fellow parent. Dating while having a kid is hard. We’re not single and unattached, and we can’t drop everything to have dinner and a date. This is the workaround. But if it bothers you that much, I’ll introduce you as a friend.’

Erik’s potshots found their mark. But there was some truth in them. ‘Fine. I’ll bring David to lunch. But we’re not staying overnight. And we’re definitely not having sex.’

‘That’s good. I was hoping that you would be able to exercise some self-control.’

Charles lowered his slice of apple, and made a face at Erik. He smirked.

Then something happened. Erik’s phone pinged. He looked down at it, and his expression changed from relaxed to something quite entirely different.

And it was then that Charles managed to pin down exactly what was bothering him. 

Erik did not like what he was seeing, based on his reaction to the message. In that moment he seemed feral, dangerous. But when he looked up again, his expression was smooth, unperturbed. 

‘I’m sorry to have to cut this short, Charles. But I have to go. There’s been a problem with a shipment that we need quite urgently.’ 

‘I’ll go,’ Charles said, standing. 

‘No, stay for as long as you want. At least finish the fruit. You can leave when you’re ready.’

Charles watched as Erik sprayed and wiped down the counters, and the surfaces were back to its original state. Nothing out of place. Yep. Erik most likely had a touch of OCD. 

He watched impassively as Erik went back to his bedroom to change, and came out brand new suit, this one in black suit and blood red tie. Why was he wearing a suit at this time of the night? Seriously. 

Charles lazily sensed that there were two minds on the other side of the front door. Charles continued eating his fruit, having gauged that there was no threat. Then the door unlocked and swung open, revealing Alex Summers and a friend next to him. 

That made Charles sit up real fast. 

‘Alex?’ 

Alex looked confused for a second. Then his gaze traveled to Erik, back to Charles, and back to Erik again. Then he did a comical double take. ‘Professor X? What are you doing here?’ 

‘Uh,’ Charles said. ‘Hanging out.’

‘With my boss?’ Alex asked, jaw hanging open.

Erik looked up from his phone. 

‘I didn’t know you were friends,’ Alex said. 

‘Uh, yeah. We are,’ Charles said. He watched Erik roll his eyes. 

‘Is the car ready?’ Erik barked at Alex. 

‘Yes, boss!’ Alex said. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’ 

‘Would you like me to arrange a car for you, Charles?’ Erik asked courteously, slipping his mobile phone into the pocket of his suit. 

‘No. No, I’m good,’ Charles said. ‘I was leaving anyway. Give me a second.’ He placed the plate in the sink, and watched a muscle in Erik’s jaw twitch. So he gave it a quick rinse and placed it on the drying rack, acutely aware that there were three people watching him. Then he walked by them, making sure to put the largest possible distance between him and Erik, not trusting him to grab Charles in for a kiss. 

‘Well. I’ll see you … around, Erik,’ he said, in what was probably the most stilted manner ever. 

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Erik said, very clearly. 

‘Cheers, Alex.’ Charles brisk-walked past them, then pretty much ran the moment he was sure he was out of sight. He could feel Alex’s mind pinging with a dozen questions, all which Charles blocked out. 

On the ride home in the cab, he listened half-heartedly to the Hindi music that the driver insisted on blasting. He mulled over the events tonight, and was slightly horrified to discover there was now something new, something different between him and Erik. That was absolutely not his intention when he had stormed up to Erik’s apartment. 

Oh dear god. Was he no longer capable of making rational, well-thought out decisions?


	10. Chapter 10

‘So what was last night about?’ Raven asked in the morning.

Charles groaned a little, unable to really formulate words until he had a hit of caffeine. He had awoken very groggily, having slept so well. It was a nice side-effect of the sex. 

‘I’ve recently gotten involved with someone,’ Charles said, deciding that honesty was the best policy. He needed the support of his friends and family if he wanted this relationship to somewhat thrive. ‘We needed to sort a couple of things out.’ 

‘Um. Wait. You went out for a booty call?’ 

‘What?’ Charles’ face flamed red. ‘No. We talked.’ In the silence, Raven just waited for him to incriminate himself, which he did. ‘Fine. We did stuff too. But I didn’t go out with that intention.’ 

‘Oh relax, I’m just messing with you,’ Raven said. ‘It’s high time you started dating again. David’s almost four. The poor dear gets so lonely sometimes. It would be nice for him to have someone other than you.’

‘I’m meeting him for lunch today. At his home. I’m bringing David along,’ Charles said. ‘You don’t think it’s too soon?’ 

‘Well, how long have you been dating?’ 

‘Not very long at all,’ Charles answered. Actually, he had known Erik for an incredibly short time. He had to start tamping down on his instinct to panic. 

‘Well, it’s not the length of time, is it? It depends on if you feel ready.’

‘I don’t know if I am. But that’s not the point of today’s lunch, I don’t think. It’s just like, hanging out so we can get to know each other. With kids. That’s all.’

‘Well, it sounds like you guys both have kids in common. That’s fairly important.’

‘I think so too. Nothing like a fellow parent to know what it’s like. I just don’t want to go too fast.’

‘Aww, you’re nervous. Don’t be. You’ll do fine. You’ll work it out. Anyways, what do you know about the guy?’ 

‘He has two kids. Businessman of some kind. No idea what he does, really. Good-looking. Wears a suit well. Keeps me fed. Also keeps fruit in the fridge for some reason.’

‘What, like melons and stuff?’ 

‘No. Apples, oranges, pears, peaches.’ 

Raven made a face. ‘Weird.’ 

‘I know. He may be a little OCD as well. Kind of the alpha-male type, actually. But seems nice enough when we’re together. Hot. Really hot.’

‘How old is he?’ 

‘He’s 38. I think.’ 

‘Ooh, a younger man.’ 

‘I’m not that much older!’ Charles protested. ‘You want some eggs?’ 

‘Yes, please. Scrambled, please.’ 

Charles began cracking eggs into a bowl, pouring some milk and whisking it together vigorously. David woke up and Raven slid a bowl of Cheerios in front of him.

‘Hey David, we’re going out to lunch today. With a friend. Remember the man from yesterday?’ 

David thought about it. ‘Erik?’ 

‘Yes, darling. What do you think?’ 

‘Can I bring my toys?’ 

‘Yes. You may bring two cars.’ 

David held up a hand with three fingers. ‘Two?’ 

‘That’s three, baby.’ Charles held up two fingers. ‘That’s two.’ 

‘Erik? With a “c” or a “k”?’ Raven asked. 

Charles groaned. ‘Jesus H. Christ. Don’t tell me that you actually know him. Erik Lehnsherr.’ 

‘Of Eisenhardt Corp?’ Raven nodded. ‘Hot damn, Charles.’ 

Charles shook his head. ‘How come everybody I know knew this guy, but I didn’t? Is he really that big of a deal?’ 

‘Charles, I work for him.’ 

‘What?’ Charles put down his whisk, and goggled at Raven. 

‘Well, I work for the company. I’m an associate with one of the executives there.’ 

‘I thought you were working as a flight attendant!’

‘Charles, that was like two jobs ago. Literally years ago. Goes to show that you don’t actually listen to me.’ 

‘I do! You always talk about travelling though, and going somewhere, so I thought you were still flying. You were in Detroit last week!’ 

Raven shook her head at him, judging him for being a terrible sibling. ‘Thanks, Charles. I work for the acquisitions department. So I basically manage projects for the team and oversee the paperwork. We often acquire small technology or electronic companies, some interstate, some overseas, under the banner of Eisenhardt Corp.’ 

‘I have no idea what you just said,’ Charles said. ‘But I’m shocked. Did you know that Alex Summers also works for Erik?’ 

‘Yes, I did. I thought you did too. You should pay more attention to the people around you.’ 

‘I do!’ Charles gently rolled the beaten eggs into the pan, and watched as the bottom caught the heat. ‘Put a couple slices of bread in the toaster, would you?’ 

‘So you’re involved with Erik Lehnsherr,’ Raven said. ‘That’s kind of hard to believe.’ 

‘Why?’ 

‘Because you’re my dorky brother. You like watching Power Rangers and eating toast with Marmite. Erik Lehnsherr, on the other hand, is terrifying. I don’t work with him directly, but I’ve seen him work. And I’ve heard the rumors. Between him and Emma Frost, they’re known as the Ice King and Queen.’ 

‘Err … why?’ 

‘Because of their icy demeanors, duh. Haven’t you seen the look on his face yet? It freezes your blood into ice, that’s why.’ 

‘He’s not really like that,’ Charles said. ‘Not in private anyway. Any other types of rumors?’ 

‘Like what?’

‘Like … possible illicit activities.’ 

‘Oh, those have been around for a while now.’ 

‘Any truth to them?’ Charles placed the plate of yellow, fluffy steaming eggs in front of Raven. ‘Eat your food,’ he urged David, who was currently crawling under the dining table, playing with his cars. 

Raven shrugged. ‘Dunno. Why don’t you ask your lover?’ she stuck her tongue out at him. 

He shuddered. ‘Don’t say “lover”! What a horrible word. Seriously though, answer the question.’ 

‘I genuinely don’t know, Charles. I have heard that he has some mob connections, but … I don’t know. Can you picture him as a mob boss though?’ 

Actually, Charles could. He thought about last night’s encounter, and the first time Charles met him. Oh yes, he definitely could. 

‘At any rate, you’ll probably find out soon enough. I’m surprised you haven’t already,’ she pointed to her own head, indicating his telepathy. 

‘Yeah, well,’ he said, a little sourly. ‘He’s shielded. He said that Emma Frost taught him how to shield against telepaths.’ 

‘Ooh,’ Raven whistled. ‘That’s really …’

‘Suspicious?’ Charles said, grumpily. ‘Trust me, I wouldn’t be involved if he wasn’t so-’ 

‘Hot?’ 

‘Nice,’ Charles said. 

‘Yes, yes, he’s “nice”, isn’t he,’ Raven made air quotation marks with her fingers as she mocked him.

Charles ignored her, instead focusing on eating his eggs, having a lovely cup of strong breakfast tea, and then lazily cleaning up. Then he packed a bag of toys and snacks, diapers and a change of clothes for David, showered, got ready, and packed a few grown-up snacks for the road. Namely Twizzlers and an apple. 

‘You’re not wearing that, are you?’ Raven asked as Charles emerged from his bedroom. 

He looked down at himself. He was wearing a jaunty stripy sweater, loose brown slacks and a collared shirt underneath. ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’ 

‘It’s so very sexy. Like, grandpa chic. Loving it, Charles.’ 

‘Well, I’m too old to be dressing up in tight jeans, darling. You’ll get there one day,’ he said. ‘Besides, this is the sort of tone I want to strike. Conservative and mature.’ 

Raven picked up David and carried him to the car while Charles loaded up the bags. ‘We’ll be home for dinner. I promised that I would have lunch with Erik … and his family.’ He gave her a quick kiss, and then they were off, following the directions that Erik had sent him. 

Charles snarled at the Saturday morning city traffic as he fought to maneuver his Toyota SUV through the lanes, almost missing the freeway exit, and almost swearing in David’s presence. But roughly thirty minutes later they were cruising along wider roads and watching the landscape change from an urban sprawl to suburbia, with its rows of trees and the red-copper-orange leaves, slowly shedding with the change of season. 

Charles drove until the directions took him to a denser part of the neighborhood, isolated by overgrown trees and a wrought-iron gate, a house that bookended the tiny road. Beyond that, he could see a pebble-lined path that extended far back, a wavy snake-like path that meant the actual house was hidden from view. Tall hedges provided some degree of privacy, and there was an actual guard house next to the gates. 

Who on earth needed a guard house? Charles thought. 

The guard marked his ID and then waved him in, and Charles drove in slowly. And while the winding drive way reminded Charles of his own childhood home in Westchester, the house did not. It was the exact opposite of what he expected a house to be. But it reminded him very much of Erik. 

The house rose like a black spire into the sky, a weird geometric shape forged from glass and metal. It looked like a futuristic, warped version of a castle, with all the trappings of modern homes. He pulled into the garage, which housed about six different cars and space for at least another six. All German brands. Charles couldn’t blame them. The Germans were great at making cars. But why did Erik need all of them, considering that he got driven around the city anyway? Charles shook his head. 

He parked in one of the available spots and found the unlocked side door that led to the inside of the house. David needed no coaxing to explore his new surroundings. But Charles felt a little uncomfortable, knowing that he was an interloper, yet allowed to roam freely. 

The inside of the house was cool, calm and very interesting. They followed the carpeted hallway and into what was a large sitting room. The entire house was decorated in shades of gray and black. There was a hallway table that held two framed photos and a crystal vase of pale pink roses. The photos were presumably of Erik’s children, a boy and girl, from when they were toddlers. 

In the lounge there was a u-shaped couch and armchairs flanking a metallic coffee table, and a silent television mounted to the wall. The walls were pretty much bare, but in the back of the room were large glass windows, displaying a seamless and interrupted view of the back garden. 

It was green and orange and red, ripe with bushes and hedges, trees with flowers and fruit, lush with growing things. Charles pushed open the sliding door, motioning for David to join him. ‘Look at this, darling. How beautiful.’ 

They walked out on the stone deck that overlooked the garden. The garden was not a wide, open expanse. Everything grew everywhere as far as the eye could see, and it looked like a maze made of tropical jungle. But the plants had the look of being tended to, and Charles wondered if Erik’s other talents also included gardening. 

‘Hello,’ a woman’s voice said, and Charles turned to see an older woman coming up to him. She had her hair cropped short and close to her head, and she wore a simple brown shift dress. She was little and skinny, with big luminous eyes that tracked his every move. 

‘Hello!’ Charles said cheerfully, wondering if this was the housekeeper. ‘My name is Charles Xavier. Sorry, I couldn’t help but walk out here, it’s so beautiful.’ 

‘It is,’ the woman said. ‘It is my life’s work. A constant source of frustration and joy.’ 

‘Oh! This is your garden?’ Charles asked. ‘I’m very envious. I never had much of a green thumb, and I pretty much kill anything that’s in my care.’ Charles watched the woman’s gaze dart to David. ‘Except for my son, of course!’ Charles laughed awkwardly. 

‘Of course,’ the woman said. ‘Hello Charles, I’m Edie,’ she introduced herself and shook his hand.

Charles could feel an intense curiosity about him emanating from this woman. So he used his powers to touch her mind briefly, not invading, merely skimming surface thoughts. 

Holy shit. This was no housekeeper. It was Erik’s mother. 

The realization threw him into an internal frenzy. He was freaking out, hard. Erik never told him he would be meeting his mother. Damn. Damn. He was absolutely not expecting this.


	11. Chapter 11

Goddamn Erik! Where was he? 

Edie had politely offered to give Charles and David a tour of the home, and he had no excuse to turn it down, really. She walked to the edge of the garden, where the explosion of green and reds and purples began, briefly explaining what they were, then led him back into the sitting room. He followed her, concealing his mute panic, quietly urging David to quit dawdling or draw him away from potential breakables. Edie then showed them down yet another hallway that was full of metal sculptures and they finally arrived at a partitioned dining area and an adjoining kitchen. 

The kitchen was large and spacious, and the counters bare. Charles honed in on this, concluding that the son was just like the mother. Edie was a little reserved, yet she seemed friendly and amicable. ‘I am going to put on some lunch now,’ she said. ‘Is there anything you can’t eat?’ 

Charles shook his head. He settled David down with a few toys and then walked over to the kitchen, where Edie was now pulling out food from the fridge, pantry and cabinets and putting them neatly on the counters. 

‘Is there anything I can help you with?’ Charles asked. 

Edie smiled, patting his arm. ‘No, you sit down and talk to me. Would you like something to drink?’ 

‘Some tea please, if you have it.’

‘Of course,’ Edie said, after a brief awkward pause, reaching for a small jar that held loose leaf tea. Charles jumped out of his seat and hurried over.

‘Here, let me put the kettle on. I don’t mind making my own tea, Mrs. Lehnsherr.’ 

‘Edie, please. Calling me Mrs. Lehnsherr makes me feel old. Anyways, I believe Erik will be joining us shortly. He was called away by some of his colleagues on the phone. I would have sent you up to his study, but he just seems very unpleasant at the moment.’ Edie began to pull out plates and cutlery. 

‘Oh, I see.’ Charles reached for the plates to set the table. Next to him, he could feel Edie’s mild ping of approval as she glanced over at him. Charles was glad, but did not dare probe further with his telepathy. This was Erik’s mother, after all. 

Erik padded into the kitchen, and saw Charles. ‘There you are. I was wondering where you were, Charles.’ Erik walked over but Charles was faster, immediately giving him a mute warning and ducking his head so Erik couldn’t kiss him or pull a quick one. 

‘Hello, Erik. You have a lovely house here. And such a marvelous garden,’ Charles said. ‘Your mom has been so good to give me a tour of the house.’

‘It’s bad manners not to be around when your guests arrive, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr,’ she said sternly. Erik brushed her off with a kiss to the back of her head. 

‘I do apologize, Charles. I had some urgent business to take care of. Where’s David?’ 

‘In the next room, playing,’ Charles said. 

Erik said hi to David, who obviously remembered him from the evening before. He gave Erik his two cars and chattered excitedly. Soon they were joined by Erik’s two children, Wanda and Peter, two five year olds who were more than eager to play with another child. Charles was actually surprised. He was not expecting Erik’s children to be so young. But it was wonderful to actually see them get along together and play. Peter showed David his collection of matchbox cars, and David almost hyperventilated on the spot. The three of them ran off to play, leaving Charles with Erik in the garden, where Edie absolutely insisted they visit. 

‘Take a stroll with me?’ Erik asked. Charles nodded. He was actually a little relieved that Eric wasn’t wearing yet another one of suits. He was dressed down in a turtleneck sweater in moss green over loose black pants. And he wasn’t wearing any shoes. It freaked Charles out a little to see him so casually, in his own home. 

Erik had been right. He had found out more about Erik in an hour today than the previous three days they had been together. 

‘Your mother lives with you?’ Charles asked, letting his fingers trail along the plants that was within reach.

‘Yes. She is the primary caregiver for my children, which affords me the opportunity to work in relative freedom. In the evenings and weekends the children have a nanny to help with homework and after school activities. Now that the twins are going to kindergarten full-time, it makes her job running the household easier. I am very lucky, since it keeps her busy and I know my children are in the safest of hands. She’s a wonderful grandmother.’ 

The trail they followed led them into the denser part of the garden. ‘And a wonderful gardener too. This is so crazy. It’s like having a jungle at your doorstep.’ They stood under a metal arbor, where creeping green vines coiled and undulated along the trellis on both sides. 

Charles ducked just as Erik reached for him. ‘Wait, we said no sex here!’

Erik grabbed him by both arms and held them firmly against his side. ‘You said.’ Erik bent down and caught Charles’ lip between his teeth, licking away until Charles surrendered his mouth to Erik. They kissed lightly at first, and then it began to morph into something else altogether. 

Charles kicked Erik’s leg, not quite gently, in order to get him to let go. ‘No sex!’ he hissed. Erik smirked at him and they continued their stroll along the stone path. There was a water feature ahead of them, a large slab of black rock with a fountain of gushing water. Even further along, there was a metal sculpture of an indeterminable shape. 

‘Why do you have so much metal in your home?’ Charles asked. ‘I mean, a little more than the usual house, anyway. I noticed the metal door on the way in. And the sculptures.’ 

Erik shrugged. ‘Metal has always sang to me. It keeps me calm, and is perhaps a logical effect of my powers. Also, it’s handy to have around to repel any sort of external invasion.’ 

Charles paused in his tracks. Then he began walking again. ‘Are you expecting an invasion?’ he asked incredulously. 

‘No. But I’m always prepared for one. I’ve been in business long enough to have made a few bitter enemies.’ Erik said quietly. ‘I have a panic room in the basement, and a guard outside on 24/7. I get early alert warnings, and my mother knows the best way to contact me. My children’s nanny is a mutant who can phase through anything, and she knows in case of an emergency, she is to evacuate the children first. You may think it is overkill, but I keep my family safe, Charles.’

‘I see,’ Charles said. And he did. His powers as a telepath had long inured him and David, because he knew it was unlikely for anyone to put them in a position where they could be hurt. He would be able to sense ill-intent towards them a mile away. 

‘Your mother seems lovely,’ Charles said. 

‘Yes. She is,’ Erik said.

‘Your middle name is adorable, though. Magnus,’ Charles sniggered. 

‘I don’t know what you find so funny, Francis.’

‘I’ll have you know that I was basically named after St. Francis Xavier. The non-’

‘Non-Italian one. Spanish. I know. You told me before.’ 

‘Patron saint of Catholic missionaries and Asia. Also poverty and celibacy,’ Charles said smugly. 

‘Huh. I don’t think you’ve been living up to the last one.’ 

‘Hey. Before you, I was basically celibate for four years.’ Charles watched Erik’s eyes roamed over him hungrily. ‘And yes, for today, we’re both celibate.’ He slapped Erik’s hand away from his butt. 

They walked back to the house, and watched the three children run around and play. Wanda was bossy enough to keep both boys out of any real trouble, while Peter delighted in having another boy in the house. David was the most excited at all, because he had other children to play with instead of his dad. 

Edie had laid a magnificent spread out on the table. There was matzo ball soup in a large tureen, fried potato latkes, and in the middle, an enormous brisket slathered in a shiny brown gravy. Next to it were two loaves of breaded challah underneath a cloth, and two tall candles bookended the feast. 

‘This looks beautiful, Edie,’ Charles called out to Edie, who was still in the kitchen. Then he hissed to Erik out of the corner of his mouth. ‘I didn’t know you were Jewish. Are you observant?’ 

‘Do I look like an observant Jew to you?’ Erik asked.

‘Shit. It’s the Shabbat. I’m sorry, I put on the kettle for tea earlier.’ 

‘Don’t worry about it. If it really bothered her, you would know it.’ 

Edie came into the dining room and called the children over. She lit two candles and brought her hands to her face, murmuring a blessing. Charles bowed his head in respect, hands clasped together. Then they all sat down to eat. David single-handedly demolished the latkes, and Charles was impressed with the Lehnsherr children’s beautiful manners as they ate.

Charles listened as Wanda basically gave them a play-by-play rundown of everything the children had done in the last hour itself. She was a confident, social little girl with an impressive vocabulary. Peter finished his food in five minutes, but was forced to remain at the table. 

When Charles sat back, stuffed with good food, he watched Peter and David run off again with their insane amount of energy. Wanda primly followed them, unwilling to be left out. He offered to clear the table, but Edie only waved him away. 

In the sitting room, Charles spied a chess set in the corner. He pounced upon it excitedly. ‘Play a game with me, Erik? I haven’t played for the longest time!’ So they sat quietly in the sitting room, focusing on the game in front of them. Charles was a little rusty, but the tactics came back easily to him, and although Erik put up a good fight, he was no match for Charles. Edie left for the synagogue, and the children went down for naps. 

The glint in Erik’s eyes came back just as he tipped his king. 

Charles regarded him with some consternation. Then against his better judgment, he followed Erik up to his bedroom. 

It was a facsimile of Erik’s bedroom in his city apartment. It was white, sparse, and minimalist. 

‘You have the most boring bedrooms, Erik.’ Charles remarked, letting Erik pull off his slacks. 

‘You have the most awful taste in clothes,’ Erik said. 

‘What’s wrong with my pants?’ Charles asked, outraged. ‘Why does everybody think it’s OK to comment on my fashion choices?’ 

‘But I find them hot,’ Erik said, running his wide hands all over Charles’ hips. ‘I’ll fuck you even with your clothes on.’ 

Charles jumped on him, curling his legs around Erik’s hips, practically choking him with his arms. He hung on tight as Erik boosted him up a little more, planting nip-like kisses against Charles’ neck. Erik’s long fingers slid around the fabric of Charles’ underwear and teased his hole. Charles leaned into it, surrendering himself to Erik. 

They were far enough from the children to be actually overheard, yet nonetheless they fucked silently. Charles choked back his moans as Erik took him from behind, up against the wall. As they orgasmed one after another, Erik pinned Charles against the wall with his weight, until Charles squeaked, pushing Erik off him before he was flattened into a pancake. 

Charles walked the five steps to the bed before actually collapsing. ‘We said no sex,’ he moaned. ‘What is wrong with us? This is strange. You don’t find it strange?’ 

Erik shrugged easily, pulling on his clothes. ‘I think it would be stranger to abstain, actually.’ He leaned down and gave Charles a kiss on his lips. ‘I would stay with you, but I think the children are stirring.’

‘How do you know?’ Charles asked. 

‘Wanda wears a silver pendant, and Peter has a watch. David has metal buttons on his shirt, but he’s still out cold.’ 

‘Is that how you track everyone?’ Charles said. It was interesting, fairly similar to Charles’ way of tracking thoughts and minds. It was something that constantly hovered in the periphery. That was how he kept tabs on his son, knowing he was safe even when they weren’t together. ‘How about me? Do you have a way to track me?’ 

‘Not really, unless you remember to wear your watch,’ Erik said. The one where you keep by the bedside table. Cuff links, but again, you don’t always wear them. You don’t wear any jewelry, so I would have to make do with the pens you keep in your briefcase, but you’re not with your bag 24/7, so of course it’s not foolproof.’ 

Charles laughed. ‘I’m sure you would love to be able to track me all the time.’ 

‘I would, actually. Would you let me?’ Erik asked. 

‘Yeah, Erik. That’s not creepy at all,’ Charles teased. ‘What are you going to do, make me wear a navel piercing?’ 

‘Well …’ Erik said. ‘No.’ He lifted a finger, and the bedside drawer (wooden, with silver knobs) flew open, and a dark metal object flew out and landed on Erik’s palm. 

‘What is that?’ Charles asked, sitting up. Then he saw the ring in his palm. ‘Wait, no, no, no …’ 

‘I’m not proposing to you,’ Erik said dryly. ‘You’ve only known me for four weeks.’ 

Charles swallowed the panic that had risen. ‘And we really don’t know that much about each other yet.’ 

‘You keep saying that. But I won’t rule it out.’

‘Rule what out?’ 

‘The possibility of getting married.’ 

Charles stared at him. ‘Boy, you really don’t waste time or mince your words, do you?’ 

Erik shrugged. ‘I told you. I know what I want. I almost always get what I want. And I don’t enjoy wasting time.’ 

‘Erik …’

‘I know you aren’t ready, Charles. You’re not in love with me. But I’m not looking to push you into anything. You can take as much time as you want, but I know we’re progressing at different speeds in this relationship.’ 

‘Sorry,’ Charles said. ‘You’re not … in love with me, are you?’ 

Erik considered this. ‘No. But I have become very fond of you. Also, fucking you is extremely enjoyable. And something I don’t want to stop doing. I am interested to see where this goes if we let it progress naturally.’ 

Charles took the ring from Erik’s palm. ‘I see.’ He turned the ring over, marveled over the smoothness, the glossiness of the brushed metal. It was a well-crafted thing, with a solid weight to it. ‘I really like you too, Erik. It’s just scary, getting to know someone else. Falling for and getting … “involved”.’ Charles crooked his fingers. 

Erik blinked at him. ‘You mean, you can’t say “love”, like a normal person?’

‘That word makes me uncomfortable,’ Charles said. ‘Truth is I never once used the word once I became an adult, so it’s as much as a surprise to me that I first encountered it when I saw my son for the first time. Sometimes I question if I am even capable of … having that with another adult.’

‘But you recognize that it is a distinct possibility that we will be further involved the longer we spend time together.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Charles said. He thought about Erik’s strong need to protect his family, his OCD tendencies, his carefully thought out design of the house so it had the maximum capability to provide refuge and defend from harm. Above all, he understood that instinct, that need to protect. ‘Why don’t we try to come to an understanding?’ 

‘I’m listening.’ 

‘I’ll consent to wear the ring, just so you have something to track me with. But you’re not to use it in an invasive manner, or track me all the time. And I’m definitely not wearing it on my ring finger. Because we’re not … there yet.’

‘All right,’ Erik said cautiously, obviously surprised by Charles’ proposition. ‘In return …?’ 

‘You’ll give permission to access your mind with my telepathy. Only when you’re asleep. Or when we’re together and you lower your guard. Not all time. Sometimes. We can discuss it.’

‘Ah,’ Erik said. ‘What exactly are you looking for, Charles?’ 

‘Nothing in particular,’ Charles evaded. ‘But just like sensing metal on me would put you at ease, being able to access your mind does it for me. You’ll just have to trust that I will be reasonable. And that I won’t go digging for your deepest darkest secrets.’

‘I don’t have anything I’m ashamed of. But I have a feeling you won’t like a lot of what you see in my mind,’ Erik said. ‘I’ll only ask that you not raid my mind like you did that night four years ago, please. It actually caused me some pain because you weren’t careful.’ 

‘I don’t even remember it,’ Charles muttered. ‘Wait. Are you saying yes?’ 

‘Yes,’ Erik said. He lifted his hand, and the ring in Charles’ palm warmed, levitated into the air and floated gently around his middle finger on his left hand. The metal expanded, then tightened gently over his finger, fitting him perfectly. 

‘This is very …’ Charles said.

‘Weird for you. I know,’ Erik said, then patted him lightly on the shoulder as he got up to check on the children, leaving Charles to stare at the ring on his finger, in equal parts confusion and apprehension.


	12. Chapter 12

Charles once watched a documentary about mountain avalanches on the National Geographic Channel about three years ago. 

It had been two in the morning, and he had felt like his body had been stretched too thin, with fatigue permeating every corner of his body. His eyes were heavy, his entire being practically vibrating with a tiredness that only new parents could suffer. David was four months old, and was going through some sort of growth spurt or sleep regression, but he was cranky and angry, unable to sleep, which made him overtired, which in turn made him even grumpier and angrier. He alternated his crying jags with high-pitched screaming, and would sleep in fitful dozes only when he was being rocked. It was a terrible cycle that Charles was unable to break, and to keep himself awake as he rocked, he had turned on the television and flipped through the channels listlessly. 

In the dark, he watched as enormous slabs of snow were displaced, and begin to roll down the steep mountain face with a violent ferocity that swept away rocks, tiny fragile tents at camps, everything that stood it its path. Large tree trunks were snapped like a twig. Pulled down by gravity, its sheer weight and momentum, the avalanche angrily churned up snow debris into plumes of snow that looked like white fog from hell rolling down the mountain. The avalanche itself was an unstoppable force, sparing nothing. 

Charles had always thought that was a lesson in the indomitability of nature. There was no fighting it, especially when the mountain was in a particularly bad temper. You can only hope that you do not get caught up in it. You watch your steps and avoid especially steep slopes where avalanches were most prone to happen. 

But sometimes you got caught anyway. All you could hope for is to roll to the side, or get on top of the rapidly moving mass, and pray that you would survive. Hope that your limbs do not get torn off, or that you do not get tossed around so hard you would not know up from down, or that when the avalanche finally rolled to a stop, the white powder of snow would not trap you underneath like concrete, so that you would suffocate and die.

That was a parable for his life, Charles had thought. Look at his parents. They had been fallen down the steep gully of love, hastily married and had a child, and then rolled down the mountain only to be trapped by their circumstances. Mountaineers who were buried in an avalanche would die if they were not found in the first fifteen minutes, which seemed a more merciful option, than the situation of his father and mother, and then later, his mother and his stepfather, who were trapped with each other for life, dying a slow death. They had tormented each other and everyone else around them accordingly. 

But back then, he had finished watching the documentary and was almost near tears to find that David, his poor baby, had finally fallen into a deep sleep against his father’s chest. Charles had given no more thought to avalanches after that. 

For the month or so since his visit to Erik’s home, they had sought to meet up every couple of days or so. The routine was becoming predictable, and it was easier on their schedules. Weekday nights Erik would come over, eat dinner with Charles and David. Charles and Erik would have sex, then Charles would send him home. On some weekend nights, Charles would go over to Erik’s, and they would have sex, and then Charles would go home. 

It became such a reliable pattern that Charles realized he was starting to look forward to seeing Erik. It was mostly for the sex, of course. Regular sex made him loose and limber and more relaxed. But it was the company that he really enjoyed. It was nice having an attractive adult next to him, capable of carrying on intellectual conversations and able to hold his own in a game of chess.

But instead of the relationship slowing down, it began to gather mass and momentum, like the accumulation of snowdrift on a mountain. Bit by bit they stacked up, just waiting for that one moment where the balance would tip.

So on a regular Wednesday evening, he could feel the first rumbles underneath his feet, a warning to him that something was shifting. He looked down at Erik, who was fast asleep in his bed. 

Earlier in the evening, Charles had picked up some boxed spaghetti and jarred sauce from the supermarket, some mince, mushroom and peppers. It was mid-week, and his larder was already empty. But he had no more energy to do a big shopping trip, so he grabbed what was easiest to make. Then he went to pick up David on the way home. 

While the red sauce was simmering away on the stove, Erik walked into his house without ringing the bell. He collapsed onto the couch, and accepted David’s welcome hug before the little boy ran cars over Erik’s stretched out long legs. 

Charles glowered at Erik. ‘Why, come in and make yourself comfortable,’ he said snarkily, breaking a handful of spaghetti before tossing it into a boiling pot.

Erik smirked at him. ‘Why, I think I will, thank you.’ Even the shit-eating grin on his face couldn’t hide the traces of fatigue. 

‘Long day at work?’ Charles asked. 

‘There’s been a monumental screw-up with one of the shipments we’ve been having. Emma caught it in time because she found discrepancies with the accounts of the supplier company. It’s fixed, but at great cost.’ 

Then Charles proceeded to tell him about his day, and having sat with the organizing committee for the Mutant Youth Forum that was coming up next week. They sat down together to dinner, and David had to be coaxed to eat. Charles ran him a bath and tucked David into bed, and when he came out, his kitchen and dining area were spotless. 

He spotted Erik in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before popping them into the dishwasher. Charles was immediately turned on. The man was good in bed and great in the kitchen. He jumped on Erik’s back as he was draining the soapy suds. 

‘Wait,’ Erik said, but Charles had already begun nibbling at Erik’s neck, still hanging on his back like a monkey. Erik wiped his hands on a tea towel, then hung it back neatly before backing up against the counter and depositing Charles on it. He turned, and hungrily kissed Charles. 

Before long, they had crept into Charles’ bedroom and locked the door behind them. Charles dropped to his knees, shoved Erik back, and let the sensual enjoyment of sucking on Erik’s cock roll through him. There was a familiarity about it now that lent some higher degree of pleasure to the act. He got up, straddled Erik, and rode him to completion. Under him, he felt Erik’s muscles tense up a little just before his own orgasm. 

‘You’re hot, Charles,’ Erik said, pushing his hair back, slapping Charles’ bare bum. They got cleaned up, then Charles pulled on some clothes and took his dirty laundry to the washer. 

When he came back, Erik was sprawled on Charles’s pillow, face down, passed out. 

Charles froze, suddenly at a loss. Usually after they fucked, they went back to their respective homes. They didn’t fall asleep, and certainly not for the night. That was the unspoken deal. But as he got closer, he saw the lines in Erik’s peaceful, sleeping face, and he didn’t have the heart to wake him up. 

So Charles crept out of the room, and fired up his laptop, intending to do some work. Perhaps Erik had just needed a nap. Charles pulled out a stack of assignments and looked through them, before assigning a grade. He kept at it for as long as he could, but when the short hand of the clock struck eleven, he knew it was time to go to bed. 

Erik was still asleep in his bed. He had been hoping that he would wake up on his own, apologize profusely, and leave for his apartment. No such luck, then. 

Charles brushed his teeth and slid into the other side of the bed gingerly after tossing a spare blanket over Erik, and pulled the covers up on himself. He lay on the other pillow, feeling horribly uncomfortable, shooting hesitant glances at Erik, who was still, by the looks of it, completely passed out. After twenty minutes of fidgeting in silence, Charles sat up. 

Hang on. This was the perfect time. He brought two fingers to his temple, and closed his eyes. 

He felt his mind reach out for Erik’s, which was now open and unguarded. It was remarkably amazing, Charles thought, as he swept Erik’s consciousness. The gates of his mind resembled exactly the wrought iron gates of his home up at Greenwich. But now it was flung open to Charles. 

He didn’t want to go too far in. He had promised Erik that, and he intended to keep his word. Charles toyed experimentally at the far reaches of Erik’s mind, where he was now dreaming of some of the events of the day. Charles caught snatches of conversations, and was able to conclude that Emma Frost was Erik’s trusted lieutenant, the COO of Eisenhardt Corp. Then he saw flashes of the issue with the problematic shipment, and saw a vision of Erik using his powers to bring down a ton of steel and crashing it into a dilapidated looking factory. 

Charles pulled out of the vision, disturbed. There must be some kind of explanation for all of this. Surely the factory was empty and abandoned. And Erik must have good reason to use his powers for something that was business-related. Or was it merely the imaginary fruit of his subconscious while he was asleep?

A little spooked, Charles approached Erik’s mind again, but this time, the vision was gone. Now he could only see apparitions of himself, as Erik conjured up the memory of them having dinner together earlier. It was as if Erik could sense that Charles was near, possibly even noticing his presence invading his mind. Dreamscapes were notoriously difficult to interpret clearly, only because dreams were stitched together versions of imagination and reality. 

Charles continued watching for a while, patiently following a dream Erik as he weaved between events of his day, such as speaking to Edie over the phone about the children, and in German, no less. Coldly berating an employee, who had the gall to burst into tears in front of him. Then a vision of a dark, throbbing night club that Erik owned? Charles didn’t know Erik owned a night club. What was it called? The Hellfire Club.

Erik stirred, turning his head on the pillow. Charles pulled back completely, watching moonlight cast over Erik’s forehead. He ran a finger gently down Erik’s frown, smoothing it out, and lay back down so as to not disturb him. And he remained there, not touching Erik, yet feeling like it was far more intimate than if he actually did. 

And that was the night he thought to himself, be careful, Charles Xavier. Watch where you tread. 

The next time he heard another rumble was in the morning, where he woke up to find himself completely alone. But his shower was running. Then it turned off abruptly, and Erik emerged at the doorway, clad in Charles’s skimpy little towel, rivulets of water still on his body. 

In the light of the morning, Charles could not believe that Erik had spent the night. But he said nothing. And Erik did not either. Erik redressed in his shirt and pants, then folded the rest neatly into a pile, which Charles wordlessly placed into a cloth bag for him to take home. 

Erik was extremely polite about his next request. ‘Do you mind if I left a couple of things here, Charles?’ 

‘Like what?’ Charles asked cautiously. 

‘Toothbrush, cologne, and a spare change of clothes.’ 

‘Sure,’ Charles said, almost relieved that it wasn’t more. In hindsight, Charles realized that there was nothing more momentous than leaving a spare toothbrush. 

Two days later, Erik didn’t show up at Charles’s. Erik had texted him earlier in the evening, saying that he wouldn’t be able to join him for dinner. Charles had gotten some takeout for him and David, and over dinner, David asked about Erik. 

‘Where’s Erik?’ 

‘Busy tonight, darling. He’s not coming over.’ 

David made a sad face. Charles had laughed, but deep inside, he had felt more than a little disappointed. And in recognizing his own feelings, he now heard the distinct rumblings become a sharp, ominous crack that thundered in his ears.

His gut churned with fear. His instincts told him again and again, be careful. But he thought, just one more step. 

On the weekend, he had arranged to meet Erik at his apartment. He left David in the very capable hands of his sister, who had made leery little comments as he departed. 

He was tired tonight, but he was up for a bang with Erik, which always put him in a great mood. He walked into Erik’s apartment and smelled something lovely in the air. While the chicken and potatoes were roasting in the oven, he let Erik fuck him on the couch. 

Afterwards, when they were all spent, they enjoyed a meal of roast chicken, potatoes and salad. It was Charles’s second dinner of the evening, but he didn’t care. As he was cleaning up, Erik got some water into the kettle and put it on the boil. Then from his pantry, he pulled out a small, ornately decorated tin of loose leaf black tea. 

Erik saw Charles watching him. ‘Got this from the tea store in Lower Manhattan. Apparently they’re famous for it. I noticed that you only drink black tea, so I asked for a recommendation.’ Erik fished out a spoon from the drawer and measured exactly one teaspoon of tea. He placed it in the teacup, and poured boiling hot water over it. Then he handed the teacup over to Charles. 

Erik then reversed his motions, putting the lid back over the tin, and returning it to the shelf in the pantry. 

Charles felt ridiculously touched. He sipped at his tea, wondering when was the last time he had been afforded such a small, simple act of care and consideration. He looked at Erik’s handsome face, placid in its concentration. So he reached up, and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Erik turned his head and met his lips instead. Charles broke off gently, his heart now pounding with a new realization that underneath his feet, the slab had started moving. The snow that he stood on disintegrated into fine powder, finally shifting, finally moving, finally falling. 

The avalanche had begun, and Charles was standing right on top of it.


	13. Chapter 13

Charles rolled over and grunted incoherently as Erik shifted next to him on the bed. He slid off, and Charles turned to him. 

‘Erik?’ Charles said groggily. 

‘Sorry,’ Erik whispered in the dark. ‘I’m just going for my run. Want to join me?’ 

Charles snorted loudly, noting that it was the ungodly hour of 5am. He rolled back over and buried his head in the pillow again. 

A couple hours later, he was in the shower, and Erik finally made an appearance, joining him inside the stall. ‘Hey,’ Charles chided half-heartedly, reluctantly moving closer to the wall to make space for Erik to squeeze in. His shower stall, unlike Erik’s at the apartment, was really meant for only one person at a time. He hissed when Erik redirected the shower nozzle at himself, leaving Charles only partially wet, half of his body gradually growing colder as the warmth left him. 

In reply, Erik grabbed him and shoved their greedy mouths against each other, fitting their bodies together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Erik’s deft fingers pressed an insistent path against Charles’s skin, as if he could draw Charles into his body if only he tried hard enough. Charles hung on, surrendering himself to Erik’s indomitable will, knowing that he was safe. 

Erik’s hands slid down Charles’s slick butt cheeks, down the valley of the cleft, jolting Charles and unleashing that primal song in his head. The need pounded down on Charles like rain, and all his thoughts fled in the face of this prurient invasion. He clambered against Erik’s body, burrowing to find that blast of heat emanating from the man who touched him so hungrily. 

Their combined weight slammed into the slippery shower wall, slid and glided into the door of the stall. Erik said, ‘Your shower is too small.’ Charles couldn’t agree more. He opened the door, still glued to Erik, while Erik shut the tap. They danced, hopped, stumbled into bed, completely soaking the rumpled top sheet. The blast of cold made them both hiss, but only prompted them to stay closer to each other, skin rubbing skin, flesh kissing flesh, seeking that blessed heat. 

Erik pulled away to grab the lube from Charles’s bathroom, slopping some on his cock, and rubbing some between his hands. He slicked Charles’s cock and hole in the sticky, slippery stuff. Charles let out a small moan as he felt Erik’s fingers slip inside him, scissoring his flesh apart almost with a recklessness, an uncharacteristic sense of hurry. The assault on his flesh was welcome, familiar. He spread his thighs as widely apart as his trembling muscles would allow. 

‘Stop fucking around with the foreplay,’ Charles breathed harshly, wanting more, wanting it immediately. 

In response, Erik withdrew his fingers, and positioned himself just above of Charles, then plunged without even a half warning. Charles’s desperate fingers tried to find purchase on the damp sheets, breathing through the sharp sting, and feel it ease away into a pleasure that took his breath away, taking away his ability to even formulate the simplest of thoughts. 

Erik set up a brutal and punishing rhythm, unwilling to even let up, driving Charles into the throes of ecstasy, electrocuting his sensitive nerves, lighting them up in an unquenchable fire. Charles let go, and bore down into the building pressure. 

His frenzied moans soon became mute, choking moans, echoed in tandem with Erik’s own guttural grunts before their bodies exploded into their own orgasms, suddenly and violently and almost without warning. 

And in that single moment in time, Charles’s telepathy expanded, sneaking into Erik’s willing and open mind, meeting in a communion of gratification and of deep affection. Charles only managed to pull back before his inadvertently revealed anything too damning about his own feelings. 

Next to him, Erik tumbled onto the sheets, panting like he had just run a marathon in half the time. Charles leaned over and slapped Erik’s now dry butt. ‘That’s one way to guarantee a good start to the morning,’ Charles said, giving Erik a kiss on the side of his head. He slid off the bed, and off to retake another quick shower, washing off all traces of Erik and lube off himself. 

He was just pouring cereal into the bowl for David when Erik sauntered out of his bedroom, a complete shit-eating grin on his face. Charles rolled his eyes, and plopped David down on the booster seat, urging him to eat breakfast. Erik slid his phone into his jacket, and snagged a piece of toast. 

‘Want me to drop both of you off?’ Erik asked. 

Charles shook his head, ‘No, thanks. Go ahead.’ 

Erik gave him a quick peck and was out the door, his phone already ringing. The door closed behind him, and there was only the quiet sounds of David chomping on his Cheerios in the house. Charles sighed. It was all entirely too domestic for him. Yet there was a smug Charles inside of him, pleased with his current circumstances, much too gleeful at the rapid development of their relationship. 

Thank goodness Erik Lehnsherr didn’t know. He would be insufferable if he did. 

He got ready to drop David off and go to work. 

As he approached the administrative building, he sensed two people sitting in his office. They did not belong there, their presence instantly putting up his guard. Very carefully, he probed the two and found that they had self-imposed shielding over their minds. Charles withdrew gently. 

He opened the door, and walked in. 

‘Gentlemen. How can I help you today?’

The men stood up quickly as Charles made his way in to the office. The man on the right was tall, thin, while the man on the left was small, slight, and very young. The tall one introduced himself first, quickly establishing himself to take the lead in the conversation. ‘I am Agent James Noble, FBI, and this is Detective Bill Jensen, of the NYPD, 66th Precinct. How are you today, Professor Xavier?’

‘I had a considerably lovely start to the morning, thank you. But I must say your visit is leaving me a little concerned.’ 

‘We’re not here to arrest you, Professor Xavier, if that was your concern,’ Noble said pleasantly. ‘We just have a few questions for you.’ 

‘What about?’ 

‘Before we begin though, I would like to request your cooperation not to use your particular talents on us. We are requesting the Mutation Restriction Protocol in conducting this interview and we hope that you will abide by the protocols today.’ 

Ever since the worldwide acceptance of mutants and their abilities ten years ago, humans had come to recognize that mutants had a clear advantage. The Mutation Restriction Protocol was a set of ethical and quasi-legal guidelines cobbled together to ensure mutants didn’t press their natural advantages in the real world. The protocols were good enough to ensure a fairly level playing field at times, but that didn’t necessarily apply to telepaths, who had the means to use their own powers and not have anyone notice. 

Charles leaned back against his chair and smiled genially. ‘I don’t usually go where I’m not invited.’ It was true, for the most part. 

‘Thank you for that, professor,’ Noble said. ‘Let me explain the situation to you clearly so you don’t misunderstand. You’re not in trouble, professor. Detective Jensen and I form part of a joint agency investigative task force. We’ve been assigned to investigate the Nesbit case. Have you heard of it?’ 

‘Yes, I’ve seen it on the news. That was … about a couple of months ago? Four bodies found in an abandoned factory in South Brooklyn owned by the Nesbit family. The police declared them as homicides, didn’t they? What does it have to do with me?’ 

‘Yes, that’s right. Actually, it has nothing to do with you, but with the man you are currently dating, Erik Lehnsherr.’ 

A bolt of lightning struck Charles’s body, rendering him momentarily speechless. ‘What?’ Charles demanded. 

Then, regardless of what he said, without waiting, he plunged into the minds of the two individuals, easily annihilating the puny defensive shields that they had put up. Whoever who taught them to put up mental shields was a poor teacher, and Charles obliterated them like a knife through wet paper. He froze them, suspending their consciousness, so he could explore in peace and try to find out why they were really here. He didn’t worry about finesse. He was powerful enough to infiltrate their minds and not have them find out. 

Noble was telling the truth so far. Jensen and Noble were part of a squad that had found links from the homicides to a known rival of Erik’s. Erik was under suspicion for a disturbingly long list of crimes, but they hadn’t found anything concrete to link him to it to anything, which was a miracle unto itself. In both Noble and Jensen’s mind, Erik’s guilt was definite, but they both agreed that he was wily. 

This time though, Erik wasn’t the target. But they wanted to pressure Erik into testifying against the man who they did think killed the four people. Erik had refused to help them. So now they were coming after Charles, hoping to indirectly put the screws to Erik. 

Charles leapt out and back into the room. He eyed the two frozen men sitting across from him, mulling over his own thoughts. He had some information on his hands now, but not enough. He needed more. He decided to let it play out. He unfroze them and waited for Noble to resume, using his telepathy to loosNoble’s tongue. 

‘We are aware that you are dating Lehnsherr, professor. We have been in touch with him, and I am sorry to tell you that we have been investigating him so far. We believe he has been involved with the man we suspect is the killer behind the four homicides.’ 

‘Involved? How?’

‘Sebastian Shaw. Heard of him?’ 

Charles had not before this day. But he had pulled out enough information from their minds to fabricate the truth. ‘Yes. He used to work with Erik.’ 

‘That’s right. Shaw was the owner of Shaw Industries, where Erik Lehnsherr first started out when he was younger. He rose through the company very quickly to become Shaw’s right hand. Then at some point, he broke off and formed Eisenhardt Corp, and took some of Shaw’s lieutenants with him, and a good chunk of his company, a number of his clients and assets. Suffice to say, it didn’t end well between them.’ 

‘The Hellfire Club,’ Charles said, pulling it from Noble’s mind when he mentioned assets. His heart sank. He had pulled the name from Erik’s mind just the other night. 

‘That’s right. That used to be one of Shaw’s assets. We have strong circumstantial evidence to suggest that Shaw was behind these killings. The four victims worked for Shaw, or were associates who had strong links to Shaw. We think they displeased Shaw somehow and he put them out to the pasture.’

‘So why do you think Erik is involved?’ 

‘Because we traced partial evidence to another factory nearby where the men used to frequent. We believe that the men were killed there, and their bodies moved. That factory was destroyed quite violently, and quite evidently by someone with Erik Lehnsherr’s mutant powers. He dropped enough steel on the factory to cave in the roof and destroy the whole thing. He destroyed all the potential evidence we had. So we need him to admit that he did it to build the case against Shaw.’ 

Charles’s heart sank even further, dropping to his now-churning stomach. ‘You make it sound like Erik destroyed evidence. But why?’ 

‘We don’t exactly know,’ Noble admitted. ‘But whatever it is, Erik Lehnsherr provides our only link to catch Shaw so far. And he has proved quite unwilling to talk to us. Do you know why he destroyed the abandoned factory? Has he mentioned anything to you?’

‘No,’ Charles said. In the silence, Charles gleaned only disbelief from the men. They were wondering how that was even possible that Charles Xavier knew nothing about Erik Lehnsherr’s criminal activities. With some effort to be neutral, he asked, ‘And what do you want from me?’ 

‘We want you to convince Lehnsherr that his best option is to cooperate with the authorities at this point. 

Charles actually laughed. ‘If you know Erik as well as I do, then you will know that it is impossible to change his mind about anything. And from what I understand, you have failed to convince him to aid you.’ 

It was time to wrap things up, Charles thought. He went back in the minds of the two men and began to meticulously erase his own footsteps and to plant an entirely different conversations in their heads where they weren’t as forthcoming.

He pulled them back into reality. ‘I’m afraid this is a dead-end, gentleman.’ 

Charles stood. Noble did not budge. 

‘Professor Xavier, I would advise you to rethink. We would like the killer to meet justice. Any cooperation on the part of Lehnsherr would help his case. After all, we know he has been involved in multiple active investigations.’ 

‘None of which you have enough evidence against him,’ Charles snapped. 

‘If you think that, then you’re as dirty as him,’ Jensen spoke up finally, in a slow, deep voice. 

Charles was indignant. ‘First of all, I resent the insinuation that I am anything but a law-abiding citizen. Secondly, if Erik Lehnsherr has been up to anything dirty, I have nothing to do with it, let alone any knowledge of it. And thirdly, I don’t believe you have anything on him but a bunch of bollocks. I wish you good luck, and hope that you catch Shaw soon. Good day, gentlemen.’ 

Charles closed his office door firmly behind them. With a pounding heart, he returned to his chair, and began pulling out the graded assignments and his laptop. He tried to distract himself from this unexpected development, but it was impossible. 

He pulled out his phone and dialed Erik. It went unanswered.

He tried again. Nothing. Which was just as well. He didn’t trust himself not to shout at Erik over the phone. 

Furious, frustrated, terrified, he looked through his contact list, and dialed another number. 

‘Hello, professor?’ Alex Summers picked up the call, and his voice sounded puzzled. 

‘Alex,’ Charles snapped. ‘Tell your goddamn boss I need to see him urgently. He knows where to find me.’ Then he slammed the phone down, and hung up. 

He had treaded water in blissful ignorance about Erik for far too long. And for a while, it was easier, simpler not to know. It had been a way to keep his instincts at bay. He had voluntarily played the fool to the man he had stupidly fallen for.

It was time to stop.


	14. Chapter 14

Charles spoke briefly to Moira, made the excuse of feeling unwell and needing to go home to rest. Moira had made concerned noises, but Charles had waved her off. He handed over his class notes for his only lecture of the day, refusing to feel guilty. He never took days off, so he was bloody well entitled to one day. 

The visit from the Agent Noble and Detective Jensen had left him shaken to the core. It made him question what kind of telepath he really was. He should have been privy to all this information before he had gotten involved with Erik, instead of putting on blinkers and letting the cards fall where they lay. Ordinary human beings and non-telepathic mutants had a genuine excuse – that sometimes, they truly did not know about the people they loved, despite living with them, working alongside them, loving them. But Charles could have, should have, but had chosen to do the exact opposite. He had abused his own standing responsibilities. And all for what? 

He caught a cab and hopped in, ordering the taxi driver to take him to Erik’s apartment. As he neared the door, he felt a glint of heat coming from the ring on his finger, and knew that it was Erik’s way of greeting him, detecting his distance, or just making sure it was still on there.

And that was how he knew that Erik was nearby. How on earth did he even beat Charles there? 

Nonetheless, Charles thought. He began gunning his motor, letting the stream of anger that he had dammed up warm him over, fire him up. Erik Lehnsherr was going to regret this, Charles vowed. 

He opened the already unlocked door, and walking in, noted Erik’s phone and wallet on the hallway table, his jacket hung up on the wall rack. And the man himself stood at the kitchen, calmly drinking a tall glass of water – what else? He watched neutrally as Charles stomped in, set his briefcase on the floor, and turned to face him. 

‘Why are you so angry?’ Erik asked simply, directly. 

Charles could barely keep his tone calm. ‘Seriously, Erik Lehnsherr? You didn’t think you could at least let me know that, oh, you’re some kind of criminal mastermind before we started dating?’ 

‘Right. I forgot I was supposed to work it into the conversations we had.’ 

‘Erik, don’t be a fucking smart arse. I had no fucking idea! Do you know how much of a patsy that makes me? What kind of telepath doesn’t know that the man he is a dating is a criminal?’ Charles exploded. 

‘If it makes you feel better, I have never been convicted of a crime,’ Erik said. 

Charles glared at him, with incredulity and outrage. ‘That’s completely irrelevant! You’re under investigation for pretty much everything under the sun. Racketeering, larceny, intimidation, arson, arms smuggling, insider trading, even murder,’ Charles exploded.

Erik took another sip. ‘Again, I haven’t been convicted for anything. So I don’t care if I’m under investigation. They won’t pin me for anything.’ 

‘This isn’t a joke, Erik,’ Charles yelled.

‘Who’s laughing?’ Erik said. 

Charles took a deep breath. ‘Erik, I’m serious. I’m terrified, and rather horrified that you didn’t tell me any of these … activities.’ 

‘I told you before. I’m not ashamed of my past and present. I’ve done everything for a reason. I’ll tell you what you want to know, Charles. I’m only surprised you didn’t ask sooner.’ 

‘Right, so you’re going to pin this on me?’ Charles fired back. 

‘No, of course not. But I warned you that you wouldn’t like what’s in my mind.’ 

‘You’re right, that’s on me. But by my standards, the omission of truth is still a lie,’ Charles said. ‘Do you know how it feels like to find out about you from someone else?’ 

‘What?’ Erik was completely caught off guard. His neutral expression immediately shifted into stiffness. ‘Who?’ he asked tersely. 

‘What?’ It was Charles’s turn to be completely confused. 

‘Who told you?’ Erik enunciated slowly and carefully. ‘I thought you found out from reading my mind.’ 

‘No, I didn’t. This morning, Agent Noble of the FBI and Detective Jensen of the 66th Precinct paid me a visit at my office. Wait, you’re not going to do anything to them, are you?’ 

‘No, of course not,’ Erik snapped. He lifted his hand and his cellphone flew from the hallway and into his waiting hand. He scrolled down his contact list and brought the phone to his ear. 

‘Marcelino, get hold of your incompetent clowns on the joint investigative force and back off of Charles Xavier.’ He listened briefly. ‘I don’t give two fucks if the FBI is involved. If they come anywhere near him again I’ll cut off their balls and feed them to you for breakfast,’ Erik spat, his tone savaging the poor soul on the receiving end. ‘Do your fucking job.’ 

He slammed down the phone. 

Charles gaped at him. ‘Marcelino? Police Commissioner Tommy Marcelino?’ Charles asked, barely believing his ears. 

‘The one and the same,’ Erik snapped. 

Charles groaned. ‘So we add police corruption to the long list of crimes which you may or may not be responsible for. Do you have everyone important in the city in your pocket?’

‘If they have an impact on my business, then yes,’ Erik said. 

‘Erik. We are talking actual crimes here. Even if you don’t go to jail for a very long time for them, you are breaking the law and hurting other people.’ 

‘The world isn’t black and white to me, Charles. I have always operated in the shades of gray. This is my work, my life.’ 

Charles shook his head. 

‘Your view of the world has always been more idealistic than mine. I’m not going to apologize for it, Charles. It is what I do, and I have no intention of giving up anytime soon.’ Erik tentatively reached out for Charles, who, while unwilling to shrug off his touch, was in no mood to reciprocate either. 

‘Who’s Sebastian Shaw?’ 

Erik’s face now darkened with anger. 

‘He’s a scum-sucking son of a bitch that I used to work for.’ 

‘You worked at Shaw Industries.’

‘Yes. I did, and I climbed the ranks quickly enough to become Shaw’s personal apprentice. He appreciated my mutation, and he did whatever he could in order to force me to become stronger, faster, more in tune with my powers. He used me to do his dirty work. But I let him, because our objectives were aligned.’

‘God, Erik. Please don’t tell me that he used you to hurt people.’ 

Erik’s gaze was brutally honest, and answered whatever fear that Charles had. And then Erik said, ‘Worse.’ 

‘Jesus, Erik,’ Charles said, in shock and disbelief. 

‘You wanted me to be honest with you, so I am.’ 

‘Please tell me you don’t do it anymore.’ 

Erik paused. ‘I don’t do it anymore. Not personally anyway.’ 

Charles groaned with some real regret for even asking. ‘Then what happened? Why did you leave?’ 

‘When our paths started diverging, I moved on. He didn’t like it, so he tried to kill me.’

‘So you took something of his. And some people.’ 

‘Yes. I took multiple assets that was important to Shaw Industries, and Shaw himself. Emma Frost, telepathy and shape-shifting. Azazel, teleportation. I took his crown jewel, the Hellfire Club. I destroyed his company, Charles. But Shaw is like a cockroach. He found a way to operate underground, out of even my reach. He just won’t die, and he won’t stop coming after me, not after what I did to him.’ 

‘How are you involved in the Nesbit factory case, where they found four bodies?’ 

Erik sighed. 

‘This is serious, Erik! They think you’ve been destroying evidence at another factory where the victims were murdered before they were moved. Did you kill them?’ 

‘No. The investigative task force are too far up their own asses to know jack shit. The four men were on Shaw’s payroll. He sent them to infiltrate my business, and they managed to sniff out an ongoing, highly confidential arms deal we have with the Burmese government. Our last negotiation took place at the abandoned factory. Shaw had those men killed at the factory in order to draw the authorities’ attention to the deal, so I had the bodies moved and the factory destroyed to bury the evidence of the arms deal.’

‘Then what did they want from you?’ 

‘They want me to testify with my personal knowledge against Shaw so that they can press charges,’ Erik said shortly. ‘In return for immunity. On one or two charges.’

‘And … you’re not going to do it.’ 

‘Why the hell would I?’ Erik said. ‘They have nothing on me, and I know that because I have enough cops on my payroll. And they’re so desperate to press charges against Shaw, but those dumb fucks don’t even know where he is.’ 

‘But this is your chance to make sure Shaw could go away for good,’ Charles said. ‘Why the hell not?’ 

‘Because I don’t want him to go to jail,’ Erik said. ‘It’s harder to personally kill him there.’ 

‘You want to kill him?’ Charles shouted now, outraged. 

‘He had a hand in my wife’s death,’ Erik said, quietly now. ‘And my two children would be dead too, if not for her.’ 

Charles covered his mouth in dismay. Then he forced himself to remain calm and logical before he looked up. ‘What happened?’ 

‘Shaw sent two men after them, to our apartment. We used to live here in the city. Magda called me, saying that they were already breaking down the door. I told her to barricade herself in the bedroom with the babies. But she didn’t. She put the babies in the walk-in closet, barricaded it, and locked the door. And then she went out to confront them. I don’t know what she was hoping to do, maybe attack them, or distract them. But it brought just barely enough time for the police to arrive. I got there a minute later. They had shot Magda, and they were already in the bedroom. The fuckers fired three bullets into the closet door, and it barely missed them,’ Erik finished dispassionately. ‘As far as I am concerned, she gave her life to ensure that my children would be alive. I want justice for her sacrifice.’

A long, strained silence hovered in the air before Charles was brave enough to speak. 

‘Killing Shaw will not bring you peace, Erik,’ Charles said. 

‘Peace was never an option,’ Erik replied. ‘Not when Shaw is still alive. We’ve been playing this cat and mouse game for now, and I’m tired of it. One of the four men gave us a couple of leads, and we’re this close to flushing this rat out of the gutter. I’m killing him, Charles, whether you like it or not. Then I can close this chapter in my life.’ 

‘Erik, I’m struggling here,’ Charles pleaded. ‘Do you understand what you are doing is morally wrong?’ 

‘I understand that your moral compass has always been more pristine than mine, Charles. You grew up in the light, but the shadows have always been where I learned my trade. What you ordinary citizens see as “wrong”, I see it as merely business. But my personal vendetta with Shaw is not nearly as simple. It is what he has coming to him.’ 

Erik moved closer to Charles, and tenderly touched the small of his back. ‘I care greatly for you, Charles. But I will not stop, not for you, not for my children. I know you don’t understand what I do and why I do it. I know this is perhaps why you’ve been insisting that you do not know me. But I don’t expect you to understand, or wish for your acceptance. I have never actively hidden this part of myself and I have never been ashamed of it. It has made me the person I am today. For me, it does not change my relationship with you. So maybe now it is for you to decide what you wish to do with me. With us.’ 

Charles wanted to punch him in the face. The way Erik said it made it sound so easy. 

He sincerely wished that he knew all this before he had fallen for Erik, the man who bought him tea and gave him a ring, the same man who understood his commitment issues and who gave him great sex. But there was the Erik Lehnsherr, CEO of Eisenhardt Corp, a legitimate front for his shady business dealings, who had no remorse for those who had died by his hands, and whose ethics and beliefs were clearly a world apart from Charles’s. 

He had no one to blame but himself. 

Charles got up on wobbly feet, trying desperately and in vain to shake off this surreal feeling of reality. Erik seemed to understand. He stood back and watched Charles grab his briefcase. After a very awkward hesitation, he gave Erik a quick nod, and headed out the door. 

What else was there left to say? At the very crux of the problem, Charles had to ask himself if he could truly live with loving a man who had done things that went against his own moral and ethical code. 

Despite all his intellect and his experiences, his belief in himself and ability to read the minds of men, he didn’t actually know which way he would go.


	15. Chapter 15

For the entirety of the lead up to the Mutant Youth Forum, Charles did not have any contact with Erik. In fact, he had no more visits from anyone – not from federal agents, or police, or anyone from Erik’s side. 

He had a rather quiet week, although an unusually busy one. He threw himself gratefully into his work, because it was enough to distract from his personal woes. Besides his usual load of classes, and committee work for the MYF, Logan had been out sick, and Moira had asked if he could cover Logan’s one unit of basic mutant history. It was not Charles’s wheelhouse, so he had to work extra hard to study Logan’s notes in his horrible hand writing and do his own research as well. 

The first day of the forum finally arrived, and Charles was almost glad for it. He just wanted it to be over so he could go back to his usual schedule, since the committee meetings always took place in the late afternoons or evenings, taking up a considerable chunk of his time. Charles was a tired single parent, and he generally liked to have an early dinner with David so he could get some time to himself in the evenings, either to read journals or catch up on work. 

He had been asked to oversee one of the information and greeting booths at the front of the university, where the student volunteers would give the incoming visitors maps of the campus and the schedule for the forum, as well with assist with any enquiries. He didn’t really have to do much, just to be on standby in case they needed a faculty member to help. 

Charles did as he was told and sat in a quiet corner in the back of the booth, reading the latest genetics journal, marveling at Howitzer’s incredibly poorly researched article on chromosomal abnormalities in mutants with weather-controlling powers. What a load of bollocks, he thought. What was the man smoking? 

Suddenly there was a voice in his head. ‘Professor?’ 

‘Jean?’ he reached out to her, and detected her presence in one of the information booths located on the east side of the campus. ‘Everything OK?’ 

‘Yes, professor. There’s a gentleman here looking for you. He asked for you by name.’

‘You want to send him my way, Jean? I’m just at the north atrium.’ 

‘There’s something off about him, professor. I can’t read him at all. He’s shielded, and I can’t break through. I mean, technically I could pull it off him, but I don’t know if I should.’ 

‘Stay there, Jean,’ Charles said, getting up. ‘I’m coming over.’ 

It took him about fifteen minutes to walk over. He followed the direction that Jean’s voice was coming from, and found that she was right. Next to her was a mass of voices, and one strange dead spot that he could not read. 

As he approached them, he found out why. The man had a device of some kind on his head – a heavy looking metal helmet. But it also had the ability to block out any telepathic intrusions. 

Charles held out his hand and introduced himself. 

The man smiled unctuously at him. Between the helmet and that smile, Charles’s hackles started to rise.

Charles had always seen his abilities as a telepath represented in the childhood parable of the three little pigs. Charles, with his ability to penetrate through any mind he chose, was the big bad wolf. Most unshielded minds were like the straw house that was built by the first pig. Without lifting a finger he could break through. Minds like Erik’s, where he had received some training, like the house made out of sticks, were a little more resistant. But with some effort from a strong telepath, he could get through the shields itself. But this man here had his shielding made entirely out of bricks. No matter how much Charles huffed or puffed, this was one house he would not be able to blow down. 

‘Would we be able to speak privately, professor?’ the man asked. 

‘Of course,’ Charles said cordially, giving Jean a little nod, and leading the way to a wooden bench a small distance from the information booth. ‘How can I help you today, Mr. Shaw?’ 

Shaw’s grin was lightning quick, humor evident. ‘You’re very quick on the uptake, professor. Despite your inability to penetrate this.’ He pointed to his helmet. 

‘I can’t say I like it overly much,’ Charles said. ‘It’s very ugly.’ 

‘It is,’ Shaw said. ‘But it serves its purpose. I suppose Erik Lehnsherr has told you about me, then?’ 

‘Only yesterday, I’m afraid. He hates you with a passion and has been hunting you for the longest while. I think he would be quite excited to see you here.’

‘How did you know it was me?’ Shaw asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of his voice. 

So Charles took him through his thought process. ‘Erik managed to get information out of your informants, enough to get close to your location. Too close, in fact, which is why you abandoned your hidey hole. You killed the men because they failed their assignments and one of them betrayed you. Your plan to frame him didn’t succeed, so you resurface to come after Erik’s personal circle, because that seems to be your modus operandi. You prefer to go after an unarmed woman and two infants rather than the man himself. Erik’s fortress is too highly guarded. Whereas my location is highly public. Is that about right?’ 

Shaw clapped his hands in childish delight. ‘Bravo, professor. That’s right. You really are as smart as they said you would be. Now before you go ahead and have telepathic sex with Erik and alert him to our delightful little discussion here, I want to say that you might want to reconsider it,’ Shaw said. 

‘I’m not interested in cooperating with you, Mr. Shaw.’ 

‘Please, call me Sebastian.’ Shaw pointed out a man over by the road, standing casually against a waiting car. ‘See that man over there? He’s waiting for a signal from me so he can alert his counterpart standing in front of Little Stars Daycare.’ 

Charles’s jaw tightened as he fought to clamp down on the jolt of cold fear than rushed through him. He calmed himself, then used his telepathy to tug at the thread of David’s consciousness, honing in on his son. 

He saw through David’s eyes that he was busy gluing cotton balls onto a pop stick in his room, which meant he was still safe. But where was the threat? He jumped outside of the daycare, looking around to see who could possibly harm his child. There was no one. Shaw was lying. 

‘You’re lying,’ Charles said.

‘Oh, sorry. I meant, inside of the daycare. How careless of me,’ Shaw said, smiling. 

Charles’ mind now practically raced and stumbled back to David, looking around the classroom. And there he was, the student volunteer, watching David closely, awaiting instructions to take the boy, to kill him if he struggled. Charles was about to incapacitate the man when Shaw placed a hand against Charles’s elbow. 

It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to his bone, his joints, his muscles, and had shattered them beyond recognition. Charles grunted lowly, barely just avoiding screaming in pain, as he fell to his knees, his unaffected hand braced against the concrete, shaking with the effort. 

Shaw had transferred a blow of energy straight into Charles’s elbow. The pain clouded his senses, and Charles’s telepathy began to scatter, unable to concentrate, with every nerve screaming out the messages sent by his body’s pain receptors.

His double vision slowly refocused, and he breathed shallowly. At his periphery, he could hear Jean probing at him, wondering if he was all right. He didn’t want to scare her, so he sent shaky but reassuring messages to her, telling her to stay put. Then with some desperation, he forced his own telepathy to depress the thalamus in his brain in order to stop the pain from crippling his body. He couldn’t afford to indulge right now. 

With the screaming pain becoming a distant roar in his head, his mind began accelerating to consider the possibilities – who should he contact? Jean was closer, and she would be able to get Scott with her and go. Erik was far away, but he had the teleporter with him. What was his name? Azazel. 

‘Leave David alone. I’m sure you and I can come to an understanding.’ 

‘I’m sure you understand your predicament by now, professor. You seem to be a very intelligent man. I was all prepared to explain to you, but it seems like you have caught on quickly. I see why Erik likes you,’ Shaw said, a tone of real admiration in his voice. 

Charles used his powers to reach out to Erik, but the physical distance between them and Erik’s own active cloaking meant that it would take a fair deal of effort and time that he did not have. He turned to Shaw, who now stood, gesturing for Charles to follow suit. Charles’s left arm hung limply by his side.

Charles sent a message telepathically through to the only open telepath in the vicinity, Jean. He wanted Erik to get his son to safety, first and foremost. He didn’t know how real Shaw’s threat was, but he wasn’t going to risk anything when it came to David. 

He walked across the grounds with Shaw, and said, ‘This is a very civilized kidnapping, wouldn’t you say?’ 

Shaw nodded. ‘Of course, professor. Any other way would be an insult to your vast intelligence. Also, it doesn’t hurt to be civil. This is only business after all,’ he said. 

What a psychopath, Charles thought as he slid into the car, and across the seats, cradling his injured hand carefully. 

Shaw ran his hand over the seat fabric. ‘Luxury Italian leather,’ he said. ‘It’s nice, isn’t it? Totally worth the splurge,’ he said, conversationally. ‘The man who owned this car had very good taste.’ 

Charles tried to swallow his own fear at the ominous hint in Shaw’s voice. 

‘What do you want with me?’ Charles asked. 

‘Actually, not much. I want you to sit tight,’ Shaw said. ‘Have a couple of drinks with me while we wait for your knight in shining armor to show up,’ he mocked. ‘Relax, professor. I’ll be civil and all.’ 

‘You want him to come looking for you,’ Charles realized.

‘Of course I do,’ Shaw said enthusiastically. ‘So you can watch your boyfriend die a horrible, drawn-out, painful death. But I promise to dispatch of you quite quickly. After all, like they say, my beef ain’t with you.’ Shaw chuckled at his own wit. 

Charles considered it. Erik’s next logical step once he secured David would be to search for Charles, which he would make an especially easy job if he opened up his telepathy to reach Erik. No. Charles was pretty much on his own, and he had to find his own way out.

‘You see the genius of my plan?’ Shaw said, leaning closer now, excited. ‘I got you by threatening your son, and I get Erik by threatening you. You know why? Because love makes you weak. But I have to say that it almost feels like cheating to exploit such an easy weakness, wouldn’t you agree? I prefer something more high-handed, of course, but you can’t deny the cheap tricks almost always work better.’ 

They arrived at a warehouse, abandoned, dilapidated. ‘Between you and Erik, it’s like you’ve locked up all of the abandoned warehouses in the city,’ Charles said. 

‘Yes, yes,’ Shaw laughed. ‘What can I say? We suspicious types do like empty warehouses. Great places to conduct business. The cops can’t get in unless they have a strong suspicion about a certain place, and then they need to prove it to get a warrant. Besides, no one can hear the screaming in here.’ 

Charles grimaced as they walked in, then slid his gaze towards the driver of the car, who was now joining them, a little way behind. Charles took control of the man’s pitifully simple mind, and launched him right at Shaw. 

Shaw batted him away like he was a fly. The man lay in a heap, completely unconscious. Charles’s mind briefly registered the shock, and the pain, before it switched off like a light. Charles’s connection with the man severed on its own, but not before he discovered the damage sustained to the man’s brain. 

‘You didn’t even try running,’ Shaw said, disappointed, bolting the entrance door of the factory behind them. 

Charles stared at the crumpled man on the ground. He was well and truly on his own.


	16. Chapter 16

While still a first year at Oxford University, Charles had considered becoming a physicist. There was just something inherently exciting about studying the natural forces of the universe around him, the plunge into the ordinary and explainable, and yet physics had a way of showing him that there was a beauty in how things could come together and simply work as a whole. 

When he had briefly come across chaos theory, however, he was fascinated. The amount of mathematics simply involved was ridiculous, yet there was a simple elegance to the actual idea of it. In the chaotic system, the smallest change in the initial conditions could lead to vastly different trajectories. And when translated to human actions, didn’t that just speak to the beauty of the universe itself? A man who made two similar but not identical decisions in time could alter his own timeline quite drastically. 

The slightest fluctuations could be very simple, such as when in a heady rush to seek pleasure, he had grabbed a pair of condoms, the foil packet still joined together in the middle, unperforated. He had ripped it apart, grabbed the one on the right. The condom had broken unexpectedly. That was how he had ended up a single parent. If he had picked the one on the left, there was a very good chance he would still be a hard-drinking, hard-partying academic who enjoyed his unfettered life. Or perhaps it would have broken anyway and instead of David he would have a Danielle. The possibilities were endless. 

In another instance, he had debated between going to Il Mare or TGIF for dinner. They were right next to each other, but the only thing that David ate at TGIF was bloody chicken tenders and Charles had had enough of that. Then Erik paid for his check and his life began to take on a different trajectory. 

Just like the flapping of butterfly wings either up or down could cause a storm either in Hong Kong or in New York. Or a quick deflection of a hand could mean a bullet flying in a misguided direction, hitting a spine and altering several lives in the process forever. And if the experiment had been reproduced where the smallest change was initiated, such as the angle of the bullet was just a few degrees off, how different would the consequences be?

But there was one thing Charles was definitely sure about. If he hadn’t met Erik Lehnsherr, he would not be in this predicament with Sebastian Shaw. 

Charles looked down at his incapacitated arm, wondering how many bones Shaw had broken. His telepathy kept the pain at bay, but Charles was hoping to escape without more injuries. Alone, with Shaw, who had the telepathy-dampening helmet on his head, with no way to physically overpower him, Charles struggled to come up with a plan that wouldn’t end with his own death. 

Shaw hummed along with a jazzy tune on the radio while they waited. ‘Sorry about the lack of refreshments, professor,’ Shaw said casually. ‘Steve was supposed to unload a couple of things for us from the trunk of the car but unfortunately, he seems to be quite dead, thanks to you.’ 

‘I didn’t kill him,’ Charles said, shakily. 

‘Well, it’s technically your fault, because I had to put him down since you took control of his mind. So whose fault is it?’ Shaw asked. 

Charles stayed silent. There was no reasoning with this psycho. 

They sat at a small round table on chairs facing each other. Shaw got up, briefly walked away, and before Charles could formulate a worthy plan, he came back with a little travel chess set. He began setting the pieces on the table. 

‘You want me to play chess with you,’ Charles said, flatly. 

‘Why not?’ Shaw asked. ‘Don’t you know how to play?’ 

‘A little inappropriate, don’t you think, considering the circumstances?’ Charles’s eyes could not help but slide to the unmoving body at the entrance of the warehouse. 

‘You want to go check on him, don’t you?’ Shaw said. 

Charles did not answer. 

‘Very well. Let’s play a game,’ Shaw smiled at him. ‘If you win the game, you can go check on him. See if he’s still alive.’ 

Shaw moved first, as he played white. Charles angled his arm away from the table in fear of accidentally pushing up against it. He didn’t need to put more of his body into trauma. He moved his pawn. 

‘Do you play with Erik?’ Shaw asked conversationally. 

Charles looked at him, his expression deliberately blank. 

Shaw paid no heed to the cold reception. ‘I bet you do,’ he laughed. ‘Surely you must do something else besides fuck the brains out of each other.’ 

‘It’s none of your business,’ Charles said evenly. 

‘I taught Erik to play chess, you know,’ Shaw continued. ‘Erik was never much of a player. He knew the moves, the plays, of course. But he was far too impatient, too direct, and could never see the beauty of the game.’ 

Charles moved his knight forward, intending to make this game a quick one. 

‘Did Erik ever tell you what I used to make him do?’ Shaw moved his bishop. 

Charles paused, before moving his rook.

‘No, of course he didn’t,’ Shaw said. ‘You wouldn’t like it. You know, Erik used to get so angry with me because he thought I made him do all the dirty work. The interrogations, the intimidations, the killings. Oh, and I made him dispose of the bodies as well.’ Shaw watched Charles. 

He refused to let Shaw rattle him. ‘Your turn.’ 

Shaw smiled before returning to the game. ‘Oh, our darling Erik. He didn’t say a thing, but I could tell he was angry. I made Emma Frost tell me exactly what he was thinking, and I made him listen. It was fun.’ 

Charles moved his queen forward. The longer he sat here with Sebastian Shaw, the more he could feel his gut churning with disgust. 

Shaw moved his own queen. ‘How long do you think it will take Erik to find you?’ 

Charles ignored him. With any luck, Erik would not find him. Charles’s gaze strayed to the door. How much of a head start did he actually need to escape? 

Shaw’s foot touched his. A muted stream of sensation ripped through his foot, the force of Shaw’s redirected energy pushing Charles backwards. He fell onto the ground with a loud crash. In shock, he doubled down on his telepathy commands on himself, suddenly terrified of the pain that thankfully never came. He breathed slowly, then sat up to examine his left foot. Shaw could have probably broken it, or at least, badly twisted it. Either way, he wasn’t able to get up and run. 

He gingerly eased his body around so he wouldn’t put weight on his foot or his hand. It took a while before he managed to right the chair, get up on one foot, and sit back down. Throughout the whole ordeal, Shaw simply watched him, pure menace behind that horrible smile. 

‘As I was saying, professor. How quickly will Erik find you?’ 

‘Maybe a day. Or two days,’ Charles said. ‘Who knows? What makes you think he’s coming?’ 

‘You’re kidding me,’ Shaw said. ‘Of course he’s coming for you. Why else would I bring you here?’ He moved his knight, and took Charles’s pawn. 

Charles concentrated on playing the game of chess. He took Shaw’s knight and rook in two successive turns, and Shaw retaliated by taking his bishop and a couple of pawns off him. But when Charles’s queen and knight closed in on Shaw’s unguarded king, it was only a matter of time before Charles swiped it off the board and got up on his good leg, dragging it behind him and he practically limped over to the man. 

Charles placed two fingers over the man’s wrist. Nothing. 

He could barely hide his own horror. 

‘Don’t worry about him,’ Shaw said genially. ‘He was only a low level mutant. Not good for much at all. Not like Erik. Oh, Erik. He had so much untapped power when I first met him. Did you know who brought it out of him? I did.’ 

Charles couldn’t outrun him, not with his leg. He couldn’t sense any minds outside, and he didn’t know how long he would have to wait for someone to come by. The only thing he could really do is get close enough to Shaw, somehow remove the helmet, and gain access to his mind that way. Perhaps even pulling the helmet off him was unnecessary. He just needed to knock it askew somehow. 

He dragged himself back to the table, and took a seat again. He watched Shaw reset the chess board. Then on his broken arm, he could feel a gently throbbing. What the hell was happening now? 

Then suddenly he realized the throbbing was warmth, coming from the ring he wore. It meant that Erik was close. Charles knew that while Erik’s mutant abilities were extraordinary and powerful, it was situationally inferior to Shaw’s ability to transfer energy. If Shaw managed to ambush Erik, it was all over. 

There was a small explosive sound, and then the smell of sulfur that choked the air. Erik had managed to enter their midst, right smack next to him, with Azazel. Shaw kicked the table and it flew at the three of them were flung violently into the air. 

While they were down, Shaw took a running leap, pinned Erik in the neck with his foot. Azazel teleported close enough to Shaw, and took an elbow in the chest, propelling him across the room, knocking him out cold.

‘Erik, for fuck’s sake. You can’t knock on the front door like a regular person? You forget about the manners I tried to teach you?’ Shaw tsked at him. ‘You and Azazel, still using the same tactics I taught you.’ 

‘Erik, the helmet!’ Charles shouted. 

Erik lifted his hand only to have Shaw stomp down on Erik’s arm, smashing his wrist and watch against the concrete ground. Erik screamed in pain, a loud and long shriek that shook Charles. Then he lifted his other arm and Shaw’s helmet flew off his head, leaving Charles to seize control of Shaw’s mind. 

Shaw’s weight shifted off Erik, and Erik doubled over in pain, holding his wrist. 

He watched as Erik got to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain. 

And then Charles knew what Erik was going to do. 

‘Erik, no!’ Charles shouted. 

The short window of opportunity closed as Erik turned to look at Charles, before a hail of bullets originating from the back of the warehouse volleyed at them, over them. Erik only just managed to raise the table in front of Charles, while flinging away the spray in his direction. 

The momentary distraction was enough for Charles’s control to slip, and suddenly they were under siege on both ends. Shaw rushed for the helmet, and Erik’s manipulation of the table suddenly failed as he managed to yank the helmet away. Charles instinctively faced Shaw, who was only a few feet away or so before Charles dropped him on the spot, curling into a protective ball. The table fell briefly before it righted itself, just in time to partially block out the next round of shelling trying to take out Charles, who had his back facing Erik. Erik waved his hand to deflect the wave of bullets that came their way, then demolished the semi-automatic rifles from a distance and running them through the men in the distance. They dropped to the ground, and the warehouse fell silent. 

Charles distantly felt the stray deflected bullet make his way against the base of his spine, piercing through clothes and then flesh and bone. His depression of the thalamus held, but when he could feel the ripping assault of the bullet sending panicky alarm flares to his brain before it was abruptly shut off. His entire body recoiled as adrenaline and pain flooded his body, abandoning his control of telepathy, causing it to fail. Then suddenly the pain in his elbow came roaring back violently, like a slap to the face, and the curious lack of sensation in his body parts below the waist had him screaming out one loud and long wail. 

Somehow in the back of his my mind he knew he had dropped control over Shaw, and they were in an indescribably dangerous situation. But he couldn’t pull it together to do much. His body was now trying to cope with the damage, fighting for survival. 

Erik took one look at Charles and shouted for Azazel, who appeared with a loud bang. Charles could vaguely feel Erik putting his hands over Charles’s body before Azazel touched him, and they were sucked into a whirlpool of noise and air, and reappearing on the cold floors of a place with white walls and bright lights. 

The calm shouts and the wheels against shining linoleum and the anxious churning in the minds of the professionals around him told Charles that they had appeared in the middle of the emergency room in a hospital. Charles screamed as someone touched his arm, and they began piercing his uninjured hand with an intravenous cannula, pulling equipment to him as doctors tried to assess his condition. 

In the midst of the busy panic he saw Erik’s stricken face, and Charles struggled to fight to stay conscious when his body was trying to shut itself down. He had never seen Erik so terrified, naked fear etched in every line on his face. Then Erik’s face got further and blurrier, and Charles closed his eyes, surrendering to the vortex of blessed unconsciousness.


	17. Chapter 17

When he awoke, his world had shifted off its axis and into free floating space. 

For the first few days, he was so groggy from the pain and the drugs that he had trouble grasping the concept of time. Sometimes it ticked by as he struggled against wave after wave of agony that the drugs barely kept at bay. Sometimes it flew past, when suddenly one moment he was awake and barely lucid and it was morning and just as swiftly it had become night. His telepathy was barely finding purchase in the slippery slope between chemically-induced sleep and consciousness. 

Doctors and nurses drifted in and out of his room, each a successive human blur of calm and briskness as they adjusted his IV, checked his vitals, or had quiet discussions at the foot of his bed. It was days before he was lucid enough to latch on to a tall, attractive doctor who introduced herself as Dr. Reyes. She pulled up a chair, and sat next to the bed until Charles’s eyes adjusted to the morning light. 

‘Hello, Charles,’ she said. 

‘Hello,’ he whispered hoarsely.

‘I am Dr. Cecilia Reyes. Can you tell me your full name?’

‘Charles Francis Xavier.’ 

‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said, in a brisk, but compassionate tone that was strangely quite reassuring. ‘Do you know where you are?’ 

‘I’m in the hospital. He hurt me. And I got shot.’ Charles’s sluggish mind weakly fought off the effects of the drugs and medication enough to replay flashes of the factory incident. Charles looked down at his arm, which was heavily bandaged. 

Then further down, where he felt nothing. 

It took him a minute before he could speak again. ‘I can’t feel anything in my legs,’ he said. 

‘You came in with a lot of injuries, Charles. There was a fracture to your left elbow, and your tibia and fibula were both broken. You’ve had two surgeries so far to correct your injuries. Your arm and leg will heal fine, but you’ve also suffered a severe spinal cord injury.’ 

Charles used his telepathy to gently delve into the doctor’s mind and find out his own diagnosis. He didn’t want to believe it, but there was the truth. He had known as soon as the bullet had touched his spine. ‘I’m not going to walk again, am I?’ 

‘No. The damage is too severe, and permanent. The bullet hit your lumbar region, which supplies the muscle groups lower on your body. I am afraid that the damage is irreversible.’ 

Charles could feel unbidden tears spring to his eyes, for the unexpected loss of something he had taken for granted. Dr. Reyes was kind enough to look away as he wiped the tears away with the sheet. She patiently waited until he was ready to speak. 

‘Do you know … if my family is nearby? My son? Is he safe?’ 

Dr. Reyes nodded. ‘Your son is with his Aunt Raven. They’re at home right now. I promised I would give them a call when you were ready to see them.’ 

Charles nodded. 

‘Do you have any questions for me, Charles?’ Dr. Reyes asked. 

‘No, not right now,’ Charles said. ‘Thank you.’ 

Dr. Reyes nodded. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow morning to check on your progress, and to answer any questions you have for me. I know this is devastating news. There’s no other way to take it but one minute at a time. Try not to think too much and focus on your recovery.’ 

When the doctor left, closing the door behind her, Charles’s feeble control over his own emotions broke, and he sobbed into his hands like a little child, until there was nothing left. The fabric of his entire universe had been destroyed and rebuilt into something completely different. He was bereft. 

The next time he awoke again, it was night, and Erik sat in the shadows. 

Hovering in the air in front of him was a piece of metal, and he was using his abilities to pull the metal apart, remold it, and pull it apart again.

Charles turned his head on the side of the soaked pillow, his eyes searching for Erik in the dark. 

Charles couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Erik remained silent. All they could do was watch each other, listening to the beeping of the medical equipment around them. He didn’t know how long Erik stayed there, but at some point in the night, he fell asleep again, exhausted from the various emotions warring inside of him. 

Dr. Reyes came to his room in the morning, and took the seat that Erik had been sitting in the night before. ‘How are you feeling this morning, Charles?’ 

‘Better,’ Charles lied. 

‘Would you like to sit up, Charles?’ Dr. Reyes asked. 

Charles wanted to laugh. ‘No,’ he said shortly. 

‘Do you have any questions for me?’ she asked. 

‘No.’ 

Dr. Reyes did not take offense to his curtness. Instead, she just checked his charts and made some notes in the file. ‘I’m going to start lowering your dose of painkillers, Charles. This way you’ll be able to stay up a little longer each time.’ 

‘I don’t want to be awake,’ Charles said. 

Dr. Reyes returned the charts before she turned to him. ‘I know this must be devastating for you, Charles. When you are ready, we can discuss your options. There is plenty of support and resources to help you regain close to the quality of the life you had before this injury. We live in modern times, where there is technology to assist you. Things aren’t going to be the same. You may want your old life back, but it’s not going to happen. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can think about adapting your environment to suit your needs.’ 

She walked over to his bedside, and placed her hand on his. ‘Your life is not over, Professor Xavier. Your new journey has just begun, and it’s up to you if you’re going to captain your ship or let it drag you along.’ Then she straightened. ‘I’ll be back in the morning to check on your progress. We’ll probably work on slowly weaning you off the medication. It will help with your mental alertness.’

When she left, Charles thought about her words. She had not sugar-coated anything for him, which was just as well. It was the jolt he needed to slap him out of the overwhelming self-pity. 

Oh, how he had missed his little David. How long had he been in the hospital? Since David had been born, he had never once missed a single night with his son. He needed to get better. He needed to see David again. 

He wept into the pillow, and slept again. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, a nurse had come in to check his vitals. When she left, closing the door behind her, Charles was pulled from his sleep by a movement to his right. Erik had placed the chair close to the window, and was watching him sleep. 

‘Charles …’ Erik said. 

‘I don’t want to talk about it, Erik,’ Charles said. ‘And … don’t apologize.’ 

Erik covered his face with his hands. 

Charles looked away. ‘It was an accident,’ Charles whispered. ‘I know it was an accident, Erik…’ To his horror, his voice began shaking, breaking, and suddenly the tears became raw gulping sobs, unstoppable, unquenchable, unfathomable. He began crying right there, in front of Erik. 

He had never wanted to show Erik this side of him. Not when they were fucking each other senselessly, when Charles thought they were there only to gain pleasure from each other’s bodies, just another way of blowing off steam. When Charles had found himself treading that slippery slope, he was too scared to trust Erik to show him even a small part of his emotions. And even when he had fallen hopelessly, he held Erik at arm’s length. In amongst it all, there was hubris and fear and anxiety and insecurity. 

It took the loss of the bottom half of his body to lay bare the stark truth that Erik was the man he had come to love and trust, and the only one with whom he felt completely safe. 

So when the dam broke, he no longer cared about Erik’s opinion of him, or whether Erik would ever reciprocate. It no longer mattered, because Charles understood in his heart of hearts, his fate was now inexplicably bound up with Erik’s, regardless of whether or not they had a future together. Erik would forever have a piece of his heart, and would forever be the man who had changed his life with the flick of a hand. And if he couldn’t break down it in front of the man who he loved, who else could he trust to keep his secrets? 

Erik’s weight leaned against the bed, letting Charles soak the front of his jacket with tears. 

The next day, Dr. Reyes cut back on his drugs, leaving him a little tired and snarly. She also managed to coax him into sitting up with some help, but he drew the line at being put into a wheelchair and pushed around, not even for some fresh air. At night, when it was quiet and he had to fight against the demons in his mind, Erik kept him company. They didn’t say much. After all, what else was there? 

And slowly, one day at a time, the doctor pushed him further and further until he was comfortable in a wheelchair, being taken to the gardens downstairs. And his first visit from Raven and David did not go as badly as he had feared. Raven was businesslike in her fussing, making sure he had extra pillows, or a new pitcher of water, or seeing to it that he had a cup of tea, sometimes even taking over the massaging of his slowly atrophying leg muscles. David noticed briefly that his father was in a wheelchair, but otherwise it had no impact upon him whatsoever. He had been more overwhelmed that he had finally been reunited with his father, and was anxious to know when Charles would go home. 

It gave him a strange sense of hope.

Dr. Reyes was pleased with how his arm was healing, and seemingly satisfied by his progress. 

‘If you keep this up, Charles, we’ll look into discharging you in a couple of days,’ she said. 

‘Thank you,’ Charles said. The truth was, as much as his hospital room had become a sort of sanctuary for him, it wasn’t home. The brownstone that they lived him was no longer adequate for his needs. The steps leading up to the front door. The narrow hallways. And the dinky little bathroom. 

So he considered his options and thought to himself that perhaps it was for this very reason that he was meant to have the inheritance that he had despised so much. He would make something out of his life. He would not let his loss define him. 

The next time Raven visited, he laid out his plans to her. She was extremely supportive, and began to put the plans into motion on his behalf. 

He struggled to think of what to say to Erik. 

That night when he came, he watched as Erik took his customary seat in the plastic chair. He was wearing the suit the first time he had visited Charles’s office, where he had so boldly propositioned him. Charles sat up in bed, and while Erik had leaned over to pour him a glass of water, Charles ran a finger against that beautiful magenta silk tie. 

It was time to talk. ‘Did Shaw get away?’ 

Erik nodded. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Charles said. 

Erik looked startled. ‘You have nothing to apologize for.’ 

‘I couldn’t hold him anymore with my telepathy. I was just … I just couldn’t. Has he gone underground again?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Are you going to go looking for him again?’ Charles asked. 

‘Yes,’ Erik answered.

‘To get justice,’ Charles said. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘For Magda.’ 

‘Yes,’ Erik affirmed again. He did not need to say out loud that Charles was now part of that equation. His path ahead of him was clear. 

‘There’s no such thing as justice,’ Charles said. ‘I’ve learned that the hard way. One moment I’m pretending I don’t know what my boyfriend is up to, and the next I’ve lost the use of my legs because you and some psychopath are desperate to kill each other.’ Charles shook his head in disbelief. ‘In the meantime, that fucker gets away scot-free, after he breaks my arm and leg and puts my son in danger. There is no justice.’ 

‘I never meant for this to happen,’ Erik said. 

‘Then what were you expecting?’ Charles asked, unable to control the escalating volume of his voice. ‘When you came into my life? That your line of work wouldn’t involve hurting someone? Except in this case, it hurt me, Erik. I lost something. Not you, not Shaw. Tell me, what did you lose, Erik?’ Charles yelled.

His shallow breathing was the only sound in the room. 

Then, very quietly, Erik said, ‘I lost you.’ 

Charles realized his next words were completely true, born from within his heart. 

‘I could have forgiven you, Erik. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Perhaps one day I could. But you being in my life put my child in danger. I can’t have that. I know you’re not going to stop hunting Shaw.’ 

‘No,’ Erik said. ‘Not before. But especially not after this.’ 

For so many nights since he had felt the world shift underneath his feet, he had wrestled with the ethical conundrum of loving a man who went against every belief that Charles ever had about the goodness of humanity. He believed in doing good, not because of karmic retribution, but because it was the right thing to do. He had a responsibility to help make the world a better place. But Erik Lehnsherr had come to occupy a unique space in his heart. He had asked himself if he was willing to accept a man like that in his life. And he had come painfully close to deciding that yes, if he had to choose between a life of good and a life with Erik, there was no question. Erik was part of him now. 

But now, it seemed that fate had other ideas. The decision had been made for him under the unfolding circumstances. 

‘I love you, Erik,’ Charles said, with clear conviction, nothing like he had ever said in his life. 

Erik looked up, his expression clearly stunned. 

‘I think that I won’t ever stop loving you. But it’s not enough. I have to heal. I have to learn how to live my life again,’ Charles continued. ‘And I can’t do that, not when you won’t deviate from your path.’ 

‘Don’t leave me, Charles,’ Erik said, his voice thick with unshed tears. 

Charles reached across and held Erik’s hand, feeling the warmth from his large, dependable, familiar hand course through his own smaller one. In the dark, they gripped each other tightly, wishing that things could have turned out differently, wanting to never let go, and hoping that the night would never end.


	18. Chapter 18

It was like he was living a waking nightmare. 

Ever since the day of the Mutant Youth Forum at Charles’s university, Erik had been reliving the same pain and regret over and over again. And of course, all that suffering couldn’t even hold a candle to what Charles was going through. 

On that terrible day, his had begun ordinarily enough, when he had walked into his office at Eisenhardt Corp, at precisely eight in the morning. Charles had avoided him for a while now, and Erik completely understood. But that didn’t make it any easier. 

Then Emma had to walk into his office and ruin his morning with a piece of unexpected news. ‘The Abruzzo deal fell through,’ Emma said, in lieu of an actual greeting. She sized him up, and clearly able to tell that he was in a terrible mood, decided to sit down in the chair opposite him and examine her fingernails. She quite enjoyed tormenting him. 

Her attire was a white leather dress a size too small for even her thin frame, skimming her thighs under a jacket that did nothing to cover her ample assets. She was dressed absolutely inappropriately for the workplace, but she was the only one that Erik really made an exception for, partially for a few reasons. She was literally his partner-in-crime, his most trusted lieutenant, who was indispensable in all areas of operation. No one in the company, save for Erik, would dare question her about her choice in attire. 

‘The fuck?’ Erik snapped, feeling his morning neutrality spiral into a bad mood. ‘The deal was supposed to be a done deal, Emma. You said it was foolproof.’ 

Emma shrugged. ‘They chickened out, sugar. The cops were sniffing too closely and they ditched the deal.’ 

‘So what the hell are we going to do with the order? And why don’t you look the slightest bit worried?’ Erik demanded. 

‘Abruzzo’s closest rival, Alfred Donetti. Remember him?’

‘Yes. Big guy, little brains.’

‘That’s right. He signed up with us, put in a new order. Double the size of Abruzzo’s and worth at least triple that. He promised us a 45% cut.’ 

Erik laughed appreciatively, feeling himself relax slightly.

‘Thought you’d be pleased, darling,’ Emma said. ‘He’s trying to throw his balls around, show Abruzzo who’s boss, but he only really has half the brains.’ 

She sat up suddenly, gripping the arm of her chair with her frosted white fingernails. She looked beyond him, and then said, ‘Incoming.’ 

Erik steeled himself for a telepathic attack, but they had already gotten in before he could so much as say fuck off. 

‘Mr. Lehnsherr,’ the voice began, and instantly he knew something was not right. The intruder was too polite. ‘I’m Jean, Professor Xavier’s student. He’s in trouble, but he needs you to go get David immediately, at his daycare. Someone’s trying to hurt him. Shaw has him. Please, you have to go now.’ 

Erik had no time to question the veracity of the intrusion. Instead, he stood up, then turned to Emma. ‘I need Azazel in here, right now,’ he said urgently. 

Emma kept quiet for two seconds, then Azazel blasted in between them violently. Erik took hold of his arm and said, ‘I’ll guide, Azazel. Emma, would you come with us?’ Emma nodded, then stepped up and held Azazel with her other arm. 

Erik squeezed his eyes closed, and conjured up the image of David’s daycare in his mind’s eye. The entrance that he had briefly glimpsed once or twice when he had dropped David and Charles off. 

And he blinked and they had arrived. 

‘Emma, clear a path for us,’ Erik said. 

He used his powers to swing open the metallic gate, and took off running inside with Azazel and Emma at his heels. When he got in inside the hallway, Emma turned to him. ‘I’ve frozen everyone, but I can’t find David. He’s not here. No one’s noticed that he’s gone.’ 

‘Why are there so many incompetent fucks in this world?’ Erik raged, impotent in his helplessness as he waited for Emma to sweep outside of the daycare area. It took her a minute to find David in the parking lot with an unknown man. Erik went out the way they came, and rounded the corner of the building. In amongst the parked cars, there was a man opening a car door. Erik could sense a thin blade strapped to his leg, and there was a small handgun in his jacket.

Erik used his powers to pull the knife out from under the man’s pant leg, and stabbed his foot with it. He shouted in pain for a brief moment until Emma froze him, and Erik got to David, who was completely oblivious to the danger around him. He lit up when he spotted Erik. ‘Erik! Robert said he was taking me to see doggies at the park!’ 

Erik picked him up, briefly checking the boy and seeing no injuries. He turned to Emma and Azazel. ‘Find out what you can from him, Emma. We’ll be back soon.’ To Azazel, he said, ‘To Greenwich.’ His hand reached out to grab Azazel. They traveled through a whirling vortex of space and suddenly, they were there. 

Edie came into the living room, startled at the loud noise. Erik, what’s going on?’ Then she saw David in his arms. ‘Oh, Charles’s little boy.’ 

Erik put the boy down. ‘David. Edie is my mother. She’s going to play with you and take care of you until I come back, all right?’ He turned to his mother. ‘I’ll explain later. Azazel will pull the children out of school and they’ll be here soon, just as a precaution.’ 

Edie nodded, and said simply, ‘Be careful, Erik.’ 

Erik nodded curtly, before he and Azazel returned to the parking lot. The man was on the ground, completely unconscious. He knew that Emma had mangled his mind.

‘Shaw may or may not have Charles,’ she said. ‘This guy didn’t know anything. He was just a poor student trying to pay off his debts, and Shaw paid him to take the kid somewhere and wait. He had the instructions to kill and dump him only if it was necessary.’ 

‘Did they have a meeting place?’ Azazel asked. 

‘No. He was supposed to operate autonomously until Shaw could contact him,’ Emma explained. ‘We can’t stay here long. It’s too exposed. The daycare’s going to find out soon that they’re gone.’ 

Erik agreed. ‘We’ll go back to my office. Then, Azazel, get my children to Greenwich. I want them safe with my mother and Kitty.’ 

Azazel grabbed hold of Emma and Erik with each hand, and Erik magnetized the unconscious man to himself, using his belt buckle. The four of them slammed into the plush burgundy carpet in his office. 

‘Sorry, rough landing,’ Azazel said. ‘Too heavy.’ Then he extricated himself from the group, took a deep breath, and disappeared. 

Erik turned to Emma. ‘Can you find Shaw?’ 

‘Not if he has the helmet on,’ Emma said. ‘I can try Charles. But what about the telepath who gave you the message?’ 

Erik thought about it. Who was she? Then realization flashed into his mind. ‘I think Charles mentioned before she was dating Scott.’ 

‘Summers? Alex Summer’s little brother?’ Emma said, then went silent for a moment. Erik had known her long enough to know that she was using her telepathy. ‘He’s coming up right now.’ 

Five minutes later, Alex Summers walked into the office, and closed the door behind him. He was trying not to look at the unmoving body that his bosses were standing over. 

‘We need you to contact your brother’s girlfriend, Alex,’ Erik asked. ‘It’s an emergency.’ 

‘Jean?’ 

That’s right. That was her name. 

Alex pulled out his phone and dialed a number, putting the call on loudspeaker. ‘Jean? Erik Lehnsherr needs to speak to you.’

‘Did you get to David?’ Jean asked frantically. 

‘Yes, he’s safe,’ Erik said. ‘Where’s Charles?’ 

‘I don’t know,’ Jean said. ‘The professor blocked me out after they left the campus. He told me not to follow them, and he would be fine. But there was something wrong with the guy that had Charles. I couldn’t read him.’ 

‘Which way did they go?’ 

‘They took a left turn, another left, then went south. This was maybe … twenty minutes ago? Maybe half an hour now. I think the professor wondered if they were heading towards Brooklyn.’

‘It’s likely,’ Emma said. It gave her enough to start triangulating Charles’s location. ‘If Charles wanted to be found, he certainly isn’t making it easy,’ she said. ‘He’s closed his mind. I can’t sense anything in the vicinity that’s reaching out to me.’

That didn’t make any sense to Erik. Why wouldn’t Charles want to be found?

Erik tried to calm down and think. Shaw was pulling the same shit he had with Magda and his children. And maybe that was why Charles wasn’t calling for help. He didn’t want Erik to walk into a trap. 

Erik didn’t give a shit. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that motherfucker.

So many precious minutes ticked by as Erik and Emma worked together to try to triangulate Charles’s position. There was too much metal for Erik to sift through, in order to find the very specific piece of platinum that sat on Charles’s finger, but he tried anyway. 

Azazel teleported back into the office. ‘Children are with your mother,’ he said. ‘Kitty is with them.’ 

Erik nodded. The children were safe with Kitty, who knew exactly what to do in order to ensure that they would come to no harm. 

Why hadn’t he put Charles and David under the same protection? 

Emma was just telling Azazel that she was having difficulties getting a hold of Charles when Azazel said, ‘I take you there, and you find him faster,’ he grunted. He placed his hands on the both of them, and then they swirled through space and found themselves right smack in the middle of Brooklyn, on a random rooftop, in the open air. 

The results were instantaneous. ‘Found him,’ Emma said. ‘Factory in Bedford-Stuy,’ she pointed out to the east. ‘He’s with Shaw. I think they’re alone. There are a cluster of humans about a block away but I don’t know if they work for him. Could be random civilians.’ 

‘Take us to the front,’ Erik said. ‘Once we get there, Emma, check the surroundings. Azazel, we’ll drop Emma off and get a better feel of the place so we can teleport in.’ 

They stood on the top of the short building opposite the factory where Charles and Shaw were located. Then Erik made sure he was ready, and listened as the pieces of metal he had inside of his pockets begin to sing under his influence. He felt for Charles’s ring, and warmed it, warning him that they were coming. Then he wrapped his hand around Azazel’s wrist. 

The scenery exploded into chaos as soon as Erik’s feet could feel the ground. Shaw kicked the table right at them with enough force to thrust them a few yards across the empty factory space. Before he could even register which direction Shaw was coming from, he was already being pushed into the ground, Shaw’s foot choking off all his air. Azazel materialized behind him, but Shaw was ready. He jabbed an elbow and Azazel went flying into the wall. He remained there. 

Shaw’s sly eyes glittered at Erik. ‘You and Azazel, still using the same tactics I taught you.’ 

Then Charles shouted and pointed at the helmet. 

Erik lifted his hand instinctively, his body struggling to breathe, and there was a tremendous pain that flashed through his arm. He heard the violent smash of his watch against the hard floor. He lifted his other arm and pulled the helmet off Shaw. 

Erik knew that Charles had taken control of Shaw when he obediently stepped off Erik and went to sit against the wall. 

He ignored the screaming pain throbbing through his body, probably coming from a broken wrist. Erik closed his eyes and felt the silver coin float from his pocket and into the air, on a steady trajectory that was under Erik’s control. He vaguely heard Charles yelling, but Emma’s voice in his head was louder. ‘Two gunmen entering the factory now, Erik!’ 

Erik looked around for anything large enough to form a shield. There was nothing except the wooden table. Erik gritted his teeth and lifted it by the rivets and screws, just in time as the spray of bullets peppered them. 

Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shaw get up, and dive for the helmet. He realized that Charles had lost control, distracted by the gunfire. Erik yanked the helmet out of reach, and the table dropped before Erik remembered to raise it again, and to fling aside the next round of bullets all at the same time. 

Enraged, Erik crushed the metal of the guns, ran the metal through their bodies and caved in the helmets that they wore. He had just turned to find Shaw when he heard Charles scream. 

It was an unearthly wail, one that made the hair at the back of his neck stand. There was something very wrong. 

Charles had been shot. In the back. But that didn’t make sense. He was facing the gunmen. 

Erik examined the trajectory of the bullet as he curled his arm underneath Charles’s neck. 

His knees buckled under the realization of what had happened. 

‘Azazel!’ he shouted in a hoarse voice, filled with a terrible fear. Azazel appeared next to them. Erik tucked his arm over Charles’s torso, anchoring him to the ground. ‘Hospital, now!’ 

He watched as Shaw got to his feet with his own volition just as Azazel placed his hand on Erik’s shoulder. Then the world fell away. 

And that was the point where the remorse and regret began. 

How had he fucked up so monumentally in so little time? 

He could barely function, unable to get past his own mistakes. He sent Azazel back to secure Emma, and to dispose the rest of the bodies, while he waited as the doctors assessed Charles. The surgeon who was in charge of Charles’s treatment was unwilling to speak to him as he wasn’t family. And for once, Erik couldn’t bring himself to inflict his will on someone else.

When Emma joined him at the hospital, he let her do what he was completely incapable of doing. She called Raven to come at once, then listened as the surgeon briefed them about Charles’s injuries. 

The wait had been excruciating.

All he kept asking himself was why he had allowed Charles and David to remain outside of his scope of protection. 

When the surgeon finally came out, Erik had actual trouble hearing the words, or understanding them. But one look at Raven’s face held all that he needed to know – the bullet that hit Charles’s spine would change his life forever. 

Since that damning diagnosis, he had thrown himself into work. It had always been a pleasure to him, to solve the puzzle problem of logistics and people and accounts and assets. But now it was a balm, distracting him from the pain in his healing wrist and the cage of mental anguish he now lived in. 

This was one problem he couldn’t throw money at to fix it. So instead he made sure Charles was completely comfortable in a private wing of the ward, with the best doctors and nurses to care for him. It also meant that he could come and go in the evenings as he pleased, was able to obtain updates on Charles’s several times in the day over the phone, and staying late into the night until the sun came up or his body began shutting down on its own. 

The whole time he was asking himself why he had stupidly allowed Shaw to escape. 

He watched Charles but could not bring himself to touch him. 

He was so, so sorry. How could he possibly even begin to atone for what he had done to Charles? 

That night he left the office at nine, and the stars were already twinkling in the sky. As usual, he had the driver drop him off at his apartment, where he would change before he went to the hospital. Where his apartment had once it had been a place of refuge, a thing of dependability, it was now stark and empty and wanting, teeming with loneliness without Charles’s natural vivacity. 

It had been a harder day than usual, and as he opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of chilled water, he changed his mind. Fuck it. He reached for the overhead cabinet and tapped a heavy bottomed glass on the counter, then generously sloshed three fingers of Macallan 25 into it. He rarely indulged, but it seemed the night called for it.

He was sickened by himself, his own weaknesses, his mistakes, his own inability to see past his own rage. 

Fury solidified in his veins. He had to keep at it, he had to find Shaw. He had to kill him, or he would no longer have a moment’s peace. 

When he walked into his bedroom, pulling off his suit, he realized what was really bugging him. The apartment had seemed off when he had walked in, but he was in such a foul mood that he didn’t bother to register it, to question his instincts. 

But now it sat on his bedside table, looking back at him, taunting him. 

He yanked the mobile phone out of his suit and dialed the hospital. 

‘Charles Xavier,’ he said curtly. 

The nurse on the other end answered pleasantly. ‘Mr. Xavier was discharged by Dr. Reyes this morning.’ 

Erik slowly lowered the phone. The one time he didn’t call in for updates, Charles had left the hospital. 

He rang Charles’s phone. It was disconnected. 

Erik launched the phone across the room hard enough to embed it firmly into the wall just above the bed that he had once shared with Charles, when he had been whole and happy and untouched by the cruelty of circumstance. The act of violence was petty and satisfying, but did nothing to quell his rage. Bits of paint and plaster showered finely down the headboard. 

His eyes wandered to the bedside table, where the two items slowly came back into view. His smashed watch when Shaw had stomped on his wrist, the time frozen at 11.46am, after which everything in his life had gone to hell. 

And the other had been the token of his affection to Charles. The platinum ring that once sat on Charles’s finger now sat on the bureau. 

Erik couldn’t bear to touch it. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, and breathed deeply. He forced himself to accept it, even though every cell in his body rebelled against this aberration.

This was his punishment, and his penance. 

He gently pulled to the ring to himself, like it was being tugged along in the air by invisible string, and let it fit over his own finger, feeling the metal that had once touched Charles warm his skin. 

He would keep it safe until Charles was ready to come home to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm sorry. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have loved writing it. For the krazy kats who have taken the time to leave comments (you know who you are!), thanks for the support and the enthusiasm, I've loved every moment of this journey with you. 
> 
> Sorry I couldn't give Cherik the happy ending they deserve. But this is not the end of their story. How can it be when Shaw literally got away scot-free?! Not cool! 
> 
> So if it hasn't turned you off yet, stay tuned for the one-shot prequel that will be posted shortly after this final chapter, and the second half of their story at some point in the near future. It won't be long, I promise. Until then!


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